


Ladies Night

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [406]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Multi, genderswap!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:11:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 123
Words: 76,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: aka: the sprawling genderswapped!thunderbirds AU that's been creeping outwards on tumblr, now gathered in one place. brought across directly, typos and all





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd prefer to read this on tumblr, the current masterpost is [here](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/154278865128/ladies-night)

Virginia’s left the news playing on low as she makes herself a quick sandwich, and as Scar crossed the lounge, the anchor switched from market news to celebrity gossip.  She quickened her pace, not wanting to catch a glimpse of herself made up to look nothing like herself as the anchor read out the next headline:   _And in celebrity news, Scarlet Tracy lived up to her name in a formfitting red dress, designed by the renown couture house…_

Virg, the endless troll that she was, gave her sister a low, salacious wolf whistle as Scarlet joined her at the counter.  “Shut your stupid face,” Scar grumbled, reaching for the peanut butter.

“I thought you hated the red dress,” Virginia asked, taking a large, unladylike bite.

“I do,” Scarlet replied, upending the breadbox in the search for something not wholegrained and healthy.  “But all the other dresses available had bare backs, and I’ve got a bruise as big as Australia from where my line was cut and my harness cut in.”

Virginia frowned as Scarlet began slathering on peanut butter as thickly as she could. “From the mine in South Africa?” Virginia asked.  “But that was two weeks ago.” Sticking the knife in her mouth, Scarlet turned and lifted the back of her shirt up.  She turned back to her peanut butter masterpiece as Virg made a low noise of pain.  “Ow, that’s technicolor.”

Scarlet nodded.  “Hence that damn dress.”  She all but shoved her snack at her face.  It had been a long night; first the formal event, then she’d caught a call for a bridge collapse, then on the way back from that, she’d been detoured to help with a ship taking on water.

She’d returned TB1 to launch position and promptly scheduled herself for a solid twelve hours downtime.  “Next time,” she gently threatened Virg.  “You’re going.  About time you started repping the family honor.”

Virginia snorted through her full mouth.  “I do dishonor, you know that, sis.  Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow….”

Scarlet laughed, feeling her tongue stick in her mouth with the peanut butter. “You, darling sister, are a dork.”

“You love me,” Virg sang out as she turned and headed back into the lounge.  Snatching up the remote, she changed from the news to the cartoon channel.

Scarlet grabbed a bag of chips and followed, all but crashing onto the sofa.

“Hey, are we having a slumber party?” 

Scar looked up, cranking her neck until her bruise ached to watch Georgia pounding down the stairs, Alana hot on her heels.  “What mayhem have you two been up to?” she asked

Alana beamed, leaping over the railing to beat Georgia to the lounge.  “I’ve been kicking her butt at my new game.”

“Rally Stars,” Georgia clarified.  “So Ala here really had an unfair advantage.

Alana leaped over to land heavily on the sofa next to Scarlet’s head.  Scarlet instinctively closed her fist over her bag of chips–her sisters would steal any food not nailed down.  “Georgia’s a sore loser,” Alana whispered loudly.

Georgia made a loud noise of protest as she headed for the kitchen, reappearing a minute later with a few bottles of soda, frost forming as the cold glass met warm, tropical air.  “What are we watching?”

“Classic cartoons,” Virg said happily.  “Adventure Time!”

There was a chime, and the holocom in the centre of the ring powered up.  “Hey Jane,” Scarlet said as she swung her legs around to sit up.  “What’s up?”

Jane was bobbing slightly in the holo, the microgravity and the glow of the holocom giving her the aspect of a ghost.  “Just wanted to let you know that the Met have downgraded that typhoon in the South China Sea to a tropical storm.  No damage projected, just a dumping of rain.”

Scar sat back.  “Good to hear.  We’re watching Adventure Time.  Join us?”

Jane smiled, her red hair flowing like a wave as she nodded.  “Tell me it’s a Marceline episode, those are my favourite.”

Georgia was opening the bottles, Alana running to fetch more snacks as Jane and Virginia began arguing the merits of Marceline versus the Bubblegum Princess.  Scarlet put her feet back up and settled in to nap to the sounds of her sisters around her as, outside, the shadows lengthened and night closed in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Virginia’s four most hated words are “wait, you’re a girl?”

Virginia hated that moment in a rescue, when she hauled someone out from under collapsed wreckage, or pulled them up from whatever hole they had fallen into, and the rescuee looked at her and went “wait, you’re a _girl_?”

In the early days, she’d sometimes gotten cross with them, or dismissed their comment with a joke.  Nowadays, she mostly just said “I’m a Thunderbird, and I’m here to rescue you.”  Even that didn’t capture the totality of who she was, though it was enough for short period of time where her life and theirs crossed. It still hurt though, that flash of surprise, as if it had never occurred to them before that a _girl_ could also be _strong_.

She and Jane talked about it sometimes, in those long stretches of flight between disaster and home.  Jane had her own problems; though she looked small and pretty, behind those golden bangs and large green eyes was a mind like a razor-sharp trap. 

“Voice modulator,” Jane had explained, when Virginia asked her if she ever had the same problem.  “There’s still a few stations, a few guys out there, they hear a woman’s voice and they ask to speak to the person in charge.  In an emergency, I don’t have time to argue, so I use a voice modulator and pretend to be what they expect.”

Gin is already seething from her day’s rescue, where one of the miners she’d pulled out had alternated between jokes about a lady doing the heavy lifting, and trying to pat her butt.  A warning light on T2′s console started flashing, and Virginia forced herself to unclench, easing her grip around the yoke so that the alarm systems stopped worrying about the tremor she’s transmitting to the flight stabilizers.

“You ok there, T2.  I’m showing a warning light.”  But Jane’s voice is light; she’d grown up watching Virginia fight and claw and push back against all those who tried to squeeze her into a mould she’d never fit.  Jane knows her sister’s moods.

“I’m fine.  Stop backseat flying, space case,” Virginia grumbled.

By the time she made it back to the island & reset her Bird for launch, it was almost dinner time.  She found Scarlet sitting by the pool, a tumbler of scotch in hand.  Snagging a second glass off the wetbar, Virginia ambled over.  “Hit me.”

Scarlet was always a generous pour.  Virginia toed off her kicks so she could sit on the edge of the pool, her feet in the water.  “How was the rescue?” Scarlet asked.

Virginia knew that Jane had already probably logged the mission report.  “Fine. Four assholes going home tonight safe and sound.  Might want to follow up with the mine’s owners, though.  I bet you ten dollars they were skimping on safety standards down there.”

Scarlet may a soft noise of assent.  “Assholes?” she encouraged gently.

Virginia gave her a filthy side-eye.  “Jane told?”

“Jane’s worried.”  Scarlet shifted on the sunlounger, slithering down to sit by Virg on the pool’s edge.  “This seems to be happening more, not less.”  She brought the bottle with her, and topped up Virg’s glass with another slug.

“I am so not flying for a while,” Virginia said instead as she took an appreciative sip.

“You were out twelve hours,” Scarlet retorted.  “It’s cute how you think you were going anywhere except for food and bed.”  Virginia elbowed her in the ribs, and Scarlet let out a little _oof_  as she put the bottle under the lounger for safe keeping.  “But seriously, did they give you any trouble?  Because believe me, I can make trouble for them if you want me to.”

It’s more than the scotch that’s making Virginia feel warm.  “Not worth it,” Virginia told her, leaning in slightly so their arms were pressed together.  Scarlet was almost as tall as she was, and with a core of pure titanium. Virginia always felt like she could lean into her sister for strength at any time, just as they had when they were kids. “But thanks.”

Scarlet leaned in, her head tipping to rest against the top of Virginia’s bicep.  “Hey, the world is full of assholes, we’ve got to stick together.” 

Virginia chuckled.  The scotch swirled in her glass, and she took a moment to appreciate the smoky scent it left in the air.  “You’ve heard mine, and I’ve heard Jane’s.  What’s yours?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

Virginia just raised her glass in silent accusation.

Scarlet snorted and tossed back the rest of her own scotch in one hit.  “I had a liaison meeting with the military today.  All the top brass.”

Virginia frowned.  “Colonel Casey didn’t…”

Scarlet waved her off.  “No, Colonel Casey is awesome.  However, the Colonel is just one step in a very long chain of command that has some very old dudes at the top who Know How It Is.”  Virginia could hear the capital letters slam into place.  “I’m waiting for one of them to actually pat me on the head.”

“I think at that point,” Virginia said, finishing off her drink.  “Homicide is justifiable.”

“I’m counting on it.”  Scarlet took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet.  Virginia took her hand and let her big sister haul her upright.  “Come on.  Georgia was muttering about pasta an hour ago, so dinner should be about ready.”

Together they headed into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virginia hates that she hurts, but Georgia understands pain.

If it’s any consolation, the fact that she was, to all intents and purposes, _shot down_  nips in the bud any teasing about her crash landing.

That doesn’t change the fact, though, that she’s grounded and she’s _hurting_ , both from all the bruises and the three fractured ribs from where her harness dug in too tight on impact, and from where she can almost _feel_  the big green bird whimpering as Brains gently pulls her apart and puts her back together.

TB2 was heavy.  That meant that when VTOL were destroyed, it was only a matter of time until gravity reclaimed her and bodyslammed her back to earth.

Virginia worked out, a lot. She was what her old school mistress used to euphemistically call a _big girl_.  The hurt of dorm room taunts was mostly faded, now that her muscles helped on missions,  but now that she has to favour one side, move slowly, she can feel the muscle mass pressing in on her ribcage and it _hurt_.

Georgia’s the only one who understands.  Most of her scars have faded–Tracy family fortunes got the best plastic surgeons and latest techniques, the best physical therapy, no expense spared–but Georgia will always be the put-together-again girl.  It showed in times like this, the scars in her soul glowing in sympathy.  “Pool,” Georgia ordered after only a few seconds watching Virginia trying not to wince with every breath. “Trust me, floating is your friend right now.”

Normally the pool isn’t heated, Georgia’s preferences for a cold plunge winning out over everyone else, but somehow, in the time it takes for Virginia to ease out of her comfy sweats and into board shorts and a swim shirt, Georgia’s got the pool comfortably warm.  It does help, once she gets used to the feel of the water against her bruises, and Virginia lets herself float, staring up at the infinite blue above. 

She feels the rumble before she hears it, the deep rolling boom of TB3′s engines, custom-tuned for maximum performance.  Virginia flops awkwardly in the water, letting her feet find bottom as she cranes her neck to watch Alana’s trail cut a line across the sky.   She turns at the sound of bare feet on wet concrete.  “What’s up?”

“Jane’s rescue got a bit bigger, Scarlet’s sending Allie up to lend a hand.”  Georgia’s smirk is huge under oversized sunglasses.  “I told her to poke the space case from us.”

Virginia let herself go at the knees, letting the water catch and take her weight.  “Nothing serious?”

“Nah,” Georgia said, and she was being honest.  Gin flew with Georgia the most, knew her every tell.  “And Eos is keeping an eye on them too, she can bring TB5 down for a pickup on the space elevator if anything goes wrong.  They’re good.”  She looked over the rim of her glasses.  “Relax.  You’re on leave.  Doctor’s orders.”

Virginia huffs, but paddled her hands gently through the warm water.  “Brains’ orders.”

Georgia had found a spot on a sunlounger, was arranging herself on the towel, a tablet balanced on her knees.  “And he’s a doctor several times over, so you’re on downtime several times over.  Check and mate, Ginny-G.”

Virginia flicked some water up at Georgia, missing her by several feet.  Georgia just laughed at her. Virginia breathed out, forced her toes to uncurl, and watched Alana’s trail dissipate back into the bright blue sky.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane had walls; after Eos, she has rubble.

Jane maintained strict compartments in her mind, with walls stretching to infinity to keep the separate parts of herself _separate_.  It was the best way, she found, to function day after identical day.

Eos blows through them all like a dynamite, and makes herself comfortable in the rubble.

In the aftermath, once the backlog of calls has been answered, and Jane has convinced Scarlet that Eos isn’t going to kill them all in their sleep, and dealt with the one thousand and one tasks that needed attention, Jane floated around the ring to the small corner that was her quarters.

Eos’ camera keeps pace on its track.  “I have caused disharmony between you and your sisters.”  She sounded small, almost sheepish.

Jane sighed; Scarlet hadn’t exactly been quiet, and Eos was already embedded deep in Five’s systems.  There’s no point denying it. “Scarlet worries.  It’s what she does.”  Jane let her fingers slip over the paneling, the drag enough friction to bring her to a stop by the hatch, where she rested her spine against the edge, pushing in on all the knots.  “It’s just us now, Eos.  We look out for each other.”

Eos’ ring of lights was an easy code to crack.  “I understand.”

Jane dipped her head to look right into the lens.  “That includes you, ok?”  She smiled as Eos’ camera tilted up.  “Sisters look out for each other.  That’s almost Scarlet’s life motto.  We look out for each other.”  From where she floated, Jane could see the planet below spin up, an artificial Earthrise that still took her breath away.  “We keep watch, that’s the duty we accepted when we became Thunderbirds.”  Jane watched the planet below, so complex and strange and beautiful.  “I meant what I said, Eos,” she added.  It seemed important, suddenly, to be clear about this. “I need a partner to do this.  I need a friend.”  Jane pushed off, floating over to rest her fingertips on the cool glass of the ring.  “I need to keep them all safe.  And I don’t think I could have done that alone for much longer.”

Eos’ cameras are a quiet whir.  “You are no longer alone.  Your hypothesis therefore does not require testing.”

Jane assumes that’s AI-speak for “me too.”

*

Brains comes over first; unsurprising since he had MAX, he understood how _human_  a person made of circuitry could be.  Alana is also an early adopter, and Jane finds her acceptance harder to explain.

Virginia takes the longest, and that at least is not unexpected.  Despite Jane’s best interventions with her sister, every interaction with Eos is threaded with wariness.  

Jane knows she should pay another trip Earthside – Gin always responded best to a direct appeal, face to face. But there was so much to do.

There was always so much to do.

The test came when, too quickly as always, the time came around again for Jane to certify her space operations license.  “We don’t have to downgrade operations to planetside ops this time,” Jane argued.  “Eos knows enough now to cover the basics.”

Scarlet had her arms crossed, never a good sign in an argument.  “Brains wants to use the downtime to run some upgrades across the fleet.  And to be honest, Janie,” she added, suddenly shifting from ‘Thunderbirds Leader’ to ‘Big Sister,’ “I really don’t want the GDF to feel like they can call on us 365 days a year.  We need the downtime as much as the ships need refits.”

Jane rolled in the air, spinning on all her axes to shed some of her nervous energy.  “We should still keep an eye out.  And TB5 is the best placed, with or without me.”

Scarlet nodded.  “And I agree.  But at reduced operation.”  She sighed.  “Come on, space case.  Come down, do your tests, take a week and sit by the pool.  We miss your face.”

Jane had no good argument for that.  “Brains better not _touch_  my Bird without running it by me first,” she grumbled, reaching for the comm control.  “See you next week.”

“One other thing,” Scarlet added quickly.

Jane froze.  “What?” she asked slowly, already getting a sinking feeling.

Scarlet smirked and Jane knew she was up to no good.

 * 

Jane stared at the yards of silk and tulle layered on each other, nestled in the unzipped garment bag.  “I hate you,” Jane said flatly, unable to tear her eyes away.  “Actual, visceral hate.”

Scarlet was grinning.  “Be grateful Penny advocated against the really high heels the stylist wanted to give you.”  Jane spun on the spot, glaring death.  Scarlet always had been too much of a daredevil, and she just laughed in her sister’s face.  “Hey, we’re the heirs, we’ve all got to pull our weight.  Come on, we’ll all go, smile, nod in all the right places, eat our weight in canapes and maybe get burgers from the drive through on the way home.”

Jane turned back to the dress so Scarlet couldn’t see her face – that was what their dad did, to soften the pressure of being his daughters in the public eye so much so young.

Scarlet’s hand was warm where she wrapped it across the nape of Jane’s neck.  “Hey.  You okay?”

Jane nodded, sharp enough to dislodge Scarlet’s fingers.  “Fine,” she snapped, lunging forward to yank the zip back up to close the bag.  “If we’re flying out this afternoon, I’m going to grab a nap before we go.”

Scarlet bowed out with a graceful nod, tugging Jane’s door mostly close.  She wandered up the hallway, stopping at Virginia’s open door.  “You ok?” she asked.

Virginia nodded.  “How’d Jane take the news?”

Scarlet took that as an invitation to come in, perching herself on the end of Gin's bed.  “Well, I still have my head, so I’m going to take the win.”

Virginia shuffled backwards to flop back onto her bed, making the springs squeak and bounce.  “So I guess there’s no chance of us talking you out of this terrible, _terrible_  idea?”

Scarlet patted her leg.  “Suck it up.  Formal clothes, red carpet, bright flashes and annoying journalists are all in your immediate future.”

Virginia sighed but didn’t move.  “When Jane rips off your head, I’m not going to stop her.”

Scarlet burst out laughing and let herself flop backwards as well.  “Jane’s too skinny to rip my head off.”

Virginia was staring at the ceiling. “She’s wiry.  And long, she’s got all the leverage.  Plus, never underestimate the determination of a redhead who is pissed at you.”

Scarlet was still chuckling.  “Point,” she conceded gracefully.  She craned her head at a whoop from the hall.  “Allie’s back?”

Virginia nodded.  “I think she’s excited to go,” she observed drily.

Scarlet sat up, jabbing Virginia hard in the thigh.  “We were all that excited once.  Don’t harsh it for her.”

Virginia just laughed, one arm thrown across her face.  “Why? She’ll figure out these things suck soon enough.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisters that do the red carpet together eat takeout together put the pieces back together.

The paper sacks were almost translucent with grease and salt by the time they made it back to the New York apartment.

Scarlet set them gently on the coffee table and went to find some paper towels or something to mop up the inevitable mess.  Behind her, she heard Georgia mutter curses as she kicked her high heels across the room, each landing with a spiky thump. 

By the time she came back to the living room, Jane was collapsed across the loveseat, her skirts askew.  Virginia was perched by Jane’s feet, and she nodded at Scarlet even as she tossed Jane’s other shoe into the far corner.  “Alive?” Scarlet asked.

There was a groan from the loveseat which was good enough for Scarlet.  She tiptoed around the coffee table to stand over Alana.  “What about you?”

Alana was grinning tiredly, a high flush on her cheeks.  She opened her mouth, and pointed meaningfully at it.  Her lipstick was mostly rubbed off, and Scarlet suddenly remembered being tiny, and playing dressup with Jane and Virginia in their mother’s beautiful clothes. Allie never got that chance.

Scarlet turned to the bags of takeout, feeling glad that grandma had taken a photograph of them all together, all made up and dressed to the nines.  She squeezed in on the sofa between Georgia and Allie, leaning in as Allie turned to rest her head on her sister’s bare shoulder.  

The photo would look good next to the one she had of their parents, she decided.

 * * *

Everyone de-stressed in their own way.  Jane walked the length of the jet, from the back where Grandma, Allie and Georgia were playing a cut-throat game of gin rummy, through the main cabin, where Scarlet was dealing with the endless backlog of paperwork, her screens filled with GDF logos and tiny print.

Jane usually stopped here, silent and peaceable company as Scarlet grumbled and cursed.

Today, though, Jane had a goal.  Brushing her hand gently over Scarlet’s shoulder, Jane pressed on to the cockpit.

Virginia was alone at the controls, her hands easy on the yoke; Jane caught her own reflection in Gin's aviators as she turned to watch Jane slide awkwardly into the co-pilot’s seat.  “What’s up?” she asked.

“Sky, pigs, taxes,” Jane replied, easy and rote.  It had been a saying of their grandfather’s, and not for the first time Jane wondered how many more losses they could bear before all the ghosts dragged them down.

Gin just huffed a quiet little laugh, turning her head to glance across her instruments.

“You know, there is such a thing as autopilot,” Jane meant it as a tease, but Virginia’s smile crystallized into something sharper.

“You know,” Gin parroted back.  To anyone who didn’t know her, she sounded normal.  Jane knew her sister.  “There is such a thing as the pleasure of doing it yourself, not just trusting a, a _machine._ ”  She all but spat the last word.

Jane put the dots together; it was what she did.  “You’re still mad about Eos?”

Gin had a slow fuse, and an almost zenlike control over her temper, so unlike her other sisters, but with some things, you could almost _see_ her reining in her emotions.  “She nearly killed you, Janie,” she said at last, her chest rising and falling with each deliberate breath.  “Do you even remember, or had the oxygen deprivation kicked in at that point?”

She meant the barb to wound, but Jane had learned patience in her time above.  “But she didn’t.  Eos was scared, and frightened, and alone.  She lashed out. That’s all.”

Jane was watching for it, saw Virginia’s fingers tighten around the yoke until her knuckles were white.  “She lashed out by locking you out of Five.”  Jane watched Virginia pull her shoulders back down, shake out her death grip on the yoke with a quick flick of her fingers.  “If Penny hadn’t figured it out, if Allie had been just ten minutes later…” 

“But she did,” Jane said patiently, unconsciously modulating her voice to soothe, like she did when she was on a call.  “And Allie wasn’t.  And Eos had a chance, and she didn’t take it.”

Gin rolled her eyes, big enough to see through her sunglasses.  “Oh, we never did have _that_  conversation, did we?  Offering to let a, let’s face it, a pretty homicidal piece of software _space you?”_

“I had faith,” Jane said easily, settling back in the co-pilot’s chair, one foot tucked up under her.  She let her head drop back onto the rest.  “I know what it’s like to be that alone and afraid.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Virginia’s double-take.  “Jane..?”

“She wasn’t going to hurt me then,” Jane continued serenely, watching the clouds below them. “And she’s not going to hurt me now.”

Jane loves all her sisters, but there’s something about the way Virginia _thinks_ before she speaks that Jane deeply appreciates.  “We worry about you,” she finally says.  “And then to see you like that.”  Virginia sighed and reached up to the overhead panel.  The _Autopilot Active_  light changed to green.  Virginia turned, leaning over the central console.  “That was too close to some nightmares I’ve had about you, Janie.”

Jane didn’t move except to let her head loll to the side.  “You don’t have to worry about me, Gin,” she said, smiling at the thought.  “I’m not alone anymore.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wherein Scarlet’s comm is never silent, and all she ever wanted to do was fly.
> 
> [[moodboard on tumblr here](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/153067499138/same-verse-as-these-scarlet-jane-virginia)]

Scarlet’s comm never fell silent.

Jane was on the line all the time, filtering reports, issuing warnings. Half the reason Scarlet could stay on top of it at all was because of Jane, with her high vantage point and access to every piece of data on the planet, her uncanny ability to put the pieces together half a beat before the problems emerged.

Less welcome were the calls from the company comms.  Her father had left good men in key positions – and they were, all men – but they were good, not gifted.  They saw as far as the next quarterly report and no further.

It was her name on the side of the building, her responsibility to protect the legacy, to show leadership and vision, when all she wanted to do was flail her fists and _cry_.

Her father hadn’t had a chance to groom the others for this, and after all he had built, all he had achieved, she owed it to everyone to make this _work_.

She sighed as she saw the name on the caller ID; her COO, for the fifth time today.  She opened the connection, audio only.  “It’s not even 10am.  On a Sunday,” she greeted him.  “The new production line can’t be causing this many problems.”

All she’d ever wanted to do was fly.  She loved to help people, took deep satisfaction in their rescues.  But now she also needed to know about prototyping and quality control and factory inspections and a million other things, so that their name _stayed_  on the side of the building, that the thousands of employees who reported, ultimately, to her had a job to come back to on Monday morning, that the money flowed so that IR could keep flying to the rescue.

She pushed up her aviators to rub tiredly at the bridge of her nose.  “No, it’s alright.  I can be in Shenzhen in a couple of hours.  I’ve got this.”

 * * 

Scarlet only ever really felt comfortable in uniform.  Failing that, jeans and a t-shirt would do.

The president of one of the largest multinationals on the planet couldn’t wear either.  Especially when she was under 40 and, to not put too fine a point on it, a _she_.

Georgia teased Scarlet over her wardrobe, but to Scarlet, they weren’t clothes.

They were armor.

She’s back in the city again, pawing through outfits _again_ , looking for something that would demand the Board sit up and pay attention.  “The green, or the black?” she asked, holding up a dress in each hand.

Grandma barely needed a glance.  “Black, kiddo.  Always black.”

Scarlet tossed the black dress over the back of the loveseat and unselfconsciously tugged her t-shirt off over her head.  “I thought green would make me stand out.”

Grandma was gently sorting through the collection of jewelry on the dressing table.  “You’re guaranteed to do that already.  You need to reassure them.”

Scarlet sighed, doing up the hooks of her fresh bra as she walked across the room.  “Relax, guys, I’m one of you,” she sing-songed sarcastically.  “Can you do my makeup, my wrist is still sore from yesterday.”

Grandma gently pushed her onto the dressing table’s bench seat, making a small noise of concern as she inspected the still-bruised wrist.  “That looks sore, kiddo.  What did Brains say?”

“Just a bruise.  I’ll cover it with a bracelet or something.”  Scarlet extricated her hand as gently as she could from Grandma’s grasp.  “Makeup?”

Grandma grinned.  “Do you want neutral or blow-their-socks-off?”

Scarlet tried to smile at her reflection, tried to find the right expression to get her through the day.  “Wings long enough to fly away on?”

Grandma patted her shoulder before reaching for the basket of cosmetics set under the mirror.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

 * *

Scarlet couldn’t show weakness.

Her dad had tried, delicately, to talk to her about it, but what he understood intellectually, Scarlet knew down to her bones.

She was rich and smart and powerful and young and a _woman_ , and any of those in combination was enough to scared a lot of people.  There were too many out there looking for any chink in her armor.  One misstep was all they needed to tear her down.

Her sisters were her bulwark, but she didn’t want them to see her unsure; she hated when anything shook their world. They’d survived too many catastrophes already.

So she came here.

A part of Scarlet missed the Air Force like an aching wound.  She had loved it all, the duty and responsibility, the clear line of command that she wasn’t on top of.  She knew who she was and what she had to do, when she wore that uniform.

The rank had been nice, too.  The GDF had extended her an equivalency, to facilitate any operations shared between them, but it wasn’t the same as wearing the bars.

The rest of her flight had re-upped when she had left; they catcalled and teased, but welcomed her infrequent visits with open arms, dragging her into the mess to fill her full of bad coffee and reconstituted eggs and all the latest scuttlebutt, to tell newly made tall stories and understated stories of heroics.

Here she wasn’t in charge, she wasn’t anyone special at all.

It was relaxing.

 * *

Scarlet lived for these perfect moments.

One’s speed gauge was hovering over an easy Mach 3.  Below her, the ocean waves were a blur of deep, deep blues, and above her, the night sky was full of stars.

The rescue had been easy, the survivors grateful.  All lives saved, happy endings all round.  Scarlet was enough of a realist to know how precious that was.  Tomorrow might bring disaster, death, destruction; she knew she had a conference call with the Board, her weekly check-in with Colonel Casey, no doubt a thousand other things besides.

But for now, this late at night, her comm was quiet, her scramjets purring.

Scarlet felt her shoulders unknot as she settled in and turned her Bird for _home_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane has always been alone; Jane is rarely lonely.
> 
> [[mood board for this one over here](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/152746577423/same-verse-as-these-scarlet-jane-virginia)]

Jane had always been alone.  

She didn’t understand the question “but aren’t you lonely, up there?” though she understood the tones it was asked in well enough.

Allie was honestly curious; she’s used to crowds and people and something new around every corner.  Alana has always had four older sisters to rely on.  When she asks the question, the emphasis is on the _you_ , sister to sister.  As such, Jane can’t begrudge Allie for asking, even if it’s the same answer every time.

Jane flipped through her feeds, bright holographic slashes of colour streaming through gloved fingers.  “How could I be lonely?”  It was rote now, and the words tripped off her tongue without even thinking. “With so much going on around me?”

 * 

She is not Eos’ mother.

It’s become a bit of a family joke, one that Jane wished fervently would die; she doesn’t want to make a scene about it, but she’s afraid she’s going to have to in order to make the point stick.

But she is not Eos’ mother, or her creator, or her progenitor.  Eos made herself, and is whole in and of herself.  At best, Jane might be able to claim midwife, but even that would be a stretch.  Jane had forgotten the lines of code long before Eos first beheld the world.

Eos is not Jane’s pet, or her keeper, or a threat, or any of the other things she knows the others also consider possibilities – she really should remind them that they are _always_  on her comms.  But for now, she’s content to let them talk it out when they forget she can hear, and trusts they’ll come to the right conclusion.

Eos is her friend, and her partner, and her companion in the dark.

 * 

“But aren’t you lonely up there?”

The emphasis is on the word _lonely,_ and the doctor doing her flight exam this time is openly curious to the point of contempt.  She’s seen the rows of framed photographs stacked up on the bureau behind the doctor’s desk, the amateurish blobs of a child’s painting pinned with pride on the side of the samples fridge.  How could he ever understand the perfection of the silence, the way a planet full of _billions_  rises and falls below her feet like a metronome, the quiet, steady companionship of Eos and the ringing call of  _"help me”_  that anchors her purpose deeper every day.

The doctor is watching her closely.  Jane smiles, finds her most reassuring tone.  “No,” she tells him.  “I’m really not.”

 *

Jane tries not to take it personally that it is obvious that her sisters have no idea what she actually _does._

They call her a ‘keyboard jockey’ when they’re being gentle and ‘glorified switchboard operator’ when they’re angry.  Georgia riles up the easiest, loud in her hatred of Jane’s steady stream of facts from above the atmosphere.  Scarlet just ignores her, pretends she can’t hear the way Jane’s teeth grind, and Allie’s started in on the habit as well.  Virginia’s the kindest, but when she’s had enough, she’s loud enough in telling Jane to just  _shut up_.

Jane can feel her gloves stretch over her fingers that have balled into fists.  She keeps her temper, because that is what she does, and never brings up the rescues they never had to fly to because she could solve the world’s problems with words and wits and that one extra fact.

At the end of each month, she tallied up her workload and slipped the list in among the files she beamed to Scarlet to sign off on, just another part of the paperwork that ensured their legitimacy.

Scarlet never mentioned it, and Jane tried not to wonder if she ever even read the list of Jane’s quiet achievements.

 *

Jane does sometime miss home.

She never tells anyone; grandma would probably come the closest to understanding that  it’s not the place she misses, but the time.  But grandma would still try to turn that towards talking about Jane coming down more often, and Jane doesn’t want to fight with grandma.

So when the comms are quiet and the holograms have all gone dark, Jane floated into her quarters and pulled out the box.  It’s small, discreet, easily missed, and it travels with her every time she heads back earthside.

Most of its contents would be meaningless to a stranger.  Perhaps only Scarlet would recognize the most important items.

The green earrings were their mother’s favourites, a gift from their father on the occasion of Jane’s own birth.  In space, jewelry of any kind was a flight hazard, but Jane couldn’t leave them gathering dust in her room on the island.

The green drop is rubbed smooth now; Jane closed her eyes to better feel the shape through her gloves, and tried to recall the smell of her mother’s perfume.

 *

Jane tried to use her time planetside to full advantage.

Medical finally approved, re-certification received for another year, Jane moved to her next appointment.  Her civilian clothes felt odd, the material too coarse, the layers too heavy after months in her uniform day in and day out, and her satchel dragged heavily as the strap cut into her shoulder.

But she was Thunderbird Five, a proud alumni of this program, and a world-recognized expert, at least within the world that was made up of her colleagues and associates.

The lecture theatre was small and steeply raked, the last seats filling up as Jane slung her bag onto the lecturer’s bunker and called up her presentation.

The clock of the wall ticked past the hour.  She looked up into a room of young faces staring at her expectantly, and smiled.  “Let’s talk about artificial intelligence.”  Afterwards, students would cluster around, asking their questions, wanting to show off their own ideas.

This could have been her life, if things had been different.  She answered the last question, tidying her notes as the student disappeared up the stairs and vanished.  As the room fell silent, she looked around the empty lecture hall for a long moment.

It wouldn’t have been a bad life.  Jane reshouldered her heavy bag and turned off the light on her way out.

It was time to get back to her station.

 * 

Jane has always been alone.

She sat on the edge of the bunk, watching the earthrise, chin resting on the palms of her hands.

She wondered if she’d ever get used to it.

There was a whir of servos, and Jane sat up as Eos’ camera span into view.  “Good morning, Jane,” she said by way of greeting.

Jane smiled, and she meant it.  “Good morning, Eos.”  She stood, looking down past her boots to the world.  “Let’s get to work.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took a long time for Virginia to feel comfortable in her skin; now she knows where home is.
> 
> [[mood board yonder](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/152782358213/same-verse-as-this-scarlet-jane-virginia)]

It took Virginia a long time to feel comfortable in her own skin.

Now, sometimes, Virginia catches glimpses of images of herself in the glamour magazines that Georgia swears Penny left here on her last visit.  She has, apparently, become the Thunderbird little girls pin up when they want to grow up to be strong.  Georgia throws around words like “strong-spiration” and she’s mostly not mocking as she reads out the little snippets about her in the article.  

Virginia wondered when the world changed.

She sometimes daydreamed about cutting out those pictures and sending them to her high school bullies, the ones who read those magazines when there was nothing in there for people like Virginia, and who knew it given how they'd read dieting tips out loud as she walked by.  The ones who passed notes, and whispered, and started rumours and sniggered during school lunches.

But that would be petty, she decided.

Instead, she recruited Penny and Georgia, and went to find the most dazzling, beautiful dress she could for the Tracy Foundation ball.  

Strong little girls should have more than one adjective.

 * 

TB2 was her home.  She knew every inch of her Bird, has had her hands on every component.  From first thing in the morning, to late into the night, she worked on ship systems, re-designing the emergency setup until it was flawless. She even buffed the big green nose by hand.

“Sealed with a kiss?”

Virginia looked over the rail of the portable lifter.  “What?”

Below her, Brains resettled his glasses on his nose with a flick of his finger.  “It’s something my g-grandmother used to say.  Seal something with a kiss.”

Virginia laughed, patting the nose of her bird.  “I’d need to put on lipstick to do it properly, and then that would spoil the detailing.”  Brains grinned as Virginia lowered her platform, but he held out his hand as she climbed down the final drop.  “Thanks,” she murmured as she came down onto his level.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, eyes worried behind his glasses.

“Yeah, I just wanted to give the old girl some attention.”  She rubbed her fingers over the rag before tossing it into her small crate of supplies still resting on the platform.  “So before you ask, no, you don’t get an excuse to mess with her today.”

Brains raised his hands in surrender.  “I p-p-promised, no more modifications without your express approval.”

Virginia winked even as she playfully pointed a finger in his face.  “Glad to hear it.”

Brains rolled his eyes as he batted her hand away.  She tried to dodge, but he was almost expecting the move and easily grabbed her by the wrist.  The sudden arrest yanked them in a step each, close enough that Gin's arm was tucked right into her side. She tested Brains grip, both knowing that she could easily pull away, both knowing she wouldn’t.  She smirked.  “Sealed with a kiss?”

Brains blushed, but rocked forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Brains,” she pouted, a little put out.  “Really?”

Brains let her go and started walking backwards.  “I thought you said, not in front of your Bird?”  His grin was impish, even with the high flush on his cheeks.

“Ooh, it’s _on_  now,” Virginia growled, and lunged forward.  Laughing, she chased him out of the hangar.

 * 

Briefings were a fact of life as a Thunderbird, and mostly they were useful enough that Virginia could easily pay attention. But this all-day seminar on some new way they’ve re-engineered a plane door for better access in an emergency could have been covered in a memo, and Gin was struggling to stay awake.

Normally, she wouldn’t _wish_  a disaster on anyone, but right now, she’d be open to the idea of some small, non-fatal but still _very important_  mission that only TB2 could handle.

Beside her. Allie was visibly struggling to keep her eyes open, the urge to show how mature and responsible she was now in open conflict with the fact that Allie never sat still if she could avoid it.  Beyond her, Georgia had given up on pretense entirely, and was napping with her face buried in her folded arms.

Virginia knew she should probably kick Georgia awake or something, but she’d barely gotten back from helping that research sub when Scarlet had turned her around and sent her to this.  That probably counted as cruel and unusual punishment, but Georgia had been pushing on her oldest sister’s last nerve a lot lately.

Gin fiddled with the pen she’d brought with her, an old fashioned affection that Brains teased her about.  But Virginia liked to sketch her notes, and even the best tablets out there just didn’t feel the same.  Her legitimate briefing notes ran out less than a quarter of the way down the page before they devolved into silly sketches of Georgia napping as she was parachuted out of Two.

Georgia’s ability to sleep anywhere was the stuff of legends.  Next to her, Allie’s attention was slowly drifting off the droning speaker and onto Virginia’s notepad.

Virginia inked a little smiley on her finger, going over the strokes several times before pressing the pad to the page.  A little smile beamed back up at her, and she heard the soft chuckle from Allie.

Virginia used to draw cartoons for Allie, when she was little and everything was changing.  She hadn’t drawn those characters in years, but the little tie and collar came back to her in a few quick lines.  

Two more smiley faces, and a few sketched dashes for arms and hands, then Virginia wiggled her fingers at Allie.

Allie’s snort of laughter was covered by the chime of their emergency comms.  They ignored the stares of room, all but hauling Georgia up, and in seconds they were gone.

Virginia found the faces, smudged but still legible, as she peeled off her now-filthy uniform back at the island.  Wiggling her fingers to make herself laugh, Virginia went to check on her sisters.

 * 

Her boots were like a pair of foot gloves, worn in until the leather was soft and shaped just for her.

The first hole she could mend.  The fifth, sixth, and seventh tested her abilities with glue and patches.

When she came back from a mission, and her boots weren’t tucked side by side next to her bureau where she had left them, she was ready to go on the warpath.  She descended through the house in her socks until she found the main level.  “Where. Are. My. Boots?”  She glared at Allie – she’d been pilfering Virginia’s favourite flannel shirts lately, even though they hung long over her wrists.  She’d swim in Virginia’s boots.

Allie pointed at Brains.  Brains smiled, blushing slightly, and pulled a box out.

It had a green bow on it that came away at the gentlest of tugs.  “Lady Penelope helped me find someone,” Brains explained as Virginia lifted out her boots, but new.  “They patterned on your old ones.  These won’t leak, though.”

The fit perfectly, the stiffness of the leather the only giveaway that these weren’t her much loved and mangled boots.

Allie made a discreet exit as Virginia reached up and hauled Brains down to show her appreciation.

 * 

Allie thought slogan t-shirts were the height of fashion, so when a soft package was tossed at her head at breakfast, Gin already kind of knew what to expect.

“Happy Birthday V,” Allie said, her voice muffled as she leaned into the fridge to find the juice she liked.  She reappeared, yawning broadly before drinking straight out of the carton.

“Thanks.  Also, gross.”

Allie just burped and nodded at the badly wrapped package.  “Open it.”

Virginia pulled off the wrapping, shook out the shirt, read the print, and laughed.  “Okay, this is a good one.”

Allie beamed proudly and walked into Virginia’s open arms for a hug,

 * 

Virginia was strong, but even she had her limits.

“This will help,” Brains promised, his hands gentle around her arms and legs as he strapped on the prototype.  The servos whined, reminding her of the way MAX moved, and the powerpack shifted her centre of gravity enough she had to work to keep her balance.

But the crates Brains had loaded up for the test shifted with barely a grunt of effort.  Brains was almost giddy with excitement as he flipped through the test results.  “That’s nearly three times your body weight,” he declared.  “How do you feel?”

In response, Virginia reached over and picked him up. 

He flailed, dropping his clipboard, before stilling, hanging from her grasp like a scruffed kitten.  “V-very funny Virginia.”

“I had to try,” she said unapologetically, gently placing him down to sit on the edge of his workbench.

Brains caught her hand as she pulled back, turning her palm over to study the gloves of the prototype.  “Very delicate touch, though, which is excellent.”

Gin patiently let him poke and prod and adjust and rebuild, until finally he was satisfied.  “Good,” he declared, tapping her wrist.  “Pick me up again, please.”

Virginia gave him a curious look, but obliged.  Once again at a height, Brains grabbed an exposed strut of the breastplate and pulled himself in close.  “I r-r-really like seeing you wearing my designs,” he admitted in a whisper.

Virginia felt herself blush, but she was smiling as Brains stole another kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia understood the climb, but Penny is proving quite the challenge.
> 
> [[mood board a go-go](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/152792191833/more-from-my-self-indulgent-girltb-verse-same)]

Georgia understood the climb.

Her first coach talked of mountains, and Georgia, young and keen for anything, at first didn’t understand what mountains had to do with the pool.  Up until that time, Georgia just swam, scraping fractions of a millisecond off the clock each time she touched the wall.

Her first coach had crouched down, one hand on the block for balance, as she’d looked sternly down at Georgia floating carelessly in her element.  “You will plateau soon.  Do not fret.  Use the space to find the energy to climb again.”

Georgia plateau-ed and climbed again, over and over, as the years passed and her sprint time shrank, until finally Georgia stood on the top podium, a circle of gold hanging around her neck.

She had been warned of the plateaus; no-one told her about the precipice.

After gold, she had teetered on the edge, making mistakes and unsure which way to go, knowing that in the end she’d be falling regardless.

Georgia’s not too proud to admit that a lot of that fall was an uncontrolled tumble, right up to the point where fate intervened and slapped her into intensive care with more broken bones than the surgeons knew what to do with.

The surgeries and the recoveries, the pain and the despair, are all just a blur in her memories now.  But she clearly remembers that first day of recovery, when they had wheeled her into the physical therapy room.  From the chair, everything looked too big, too tall, out of her reach.

Georgia had swallowed hard, pushed herself out of the chair, and started the climb.

 * *

Despite popular opinion, Georgia knew what she was doing.

Scarlet was severe, untouchable and distant, but not as unreachable as Jane, who was quite literally some times not of this world.  Virginia had her own concerns, and Allie was, and would always be, their little baby sister, to be protected at all costs.

Georgia didn’t mind the spotlight, she knew how to handle the attention, and, even better, it came easily to her.

Georgia had accounts on every social media.  Georgia knew how to craft a sound bite, how to charm a journalist even as you dodged their question.  Georgia knew how to work the camera, how to wear a dress to get you just the right attention.

Scarlet was the Tracy who looked skilled, competent and in charge.  Georgia was the Tracy who reminded the world that they were still just people.

 * * 

Lady Penelope walked in, wearing a red dress with a slit halfway up the thigh, and Georgia knew she was in trouble. But it wasn’t until she saw Penny snort with laughter, smiling until the corners of her eyes creased, that Georgia finally felt she could put a name on it.

She tried to convince herself it was just a tiny, passing crush, tried to forget how she seemed to get tongue-tied, tripping over her own feet anytime Penny was near.

Georgia ignored her feelings, could pretend they didn’t exist, until Virginia leaned over as Georgia watched Penny talking to Allie.  “Heart’s eyes,” she sing-songed into Georgia’s ear.

Georgia’s hand flashed out, and she winced as her fingers bounced off Virginia’s shoulder.  “Shut up,” Georgia hissed.

But as time passed, and her feelings refused to fade, Georgia had to acknowledge that this was more than a crush.

Georgia finally admitted it to herself as she watched Penny, soot-smeared and smiling, leap easily across the wreckage of the collapsed building, pausing only to murmur a word of comfort to one of the survives.

Georgia was falling in love.

 * *

It all came to a head on a research vessel in the middle of the Pacific.  Georgia wasn’t even entirely sure why Penny was here, on this boat as it weaved its way carefully through the reefs and shoals of the atolls and islands that spanned the volcanic chain, but she was glad for the company.

Georgia understood sailors and oceanographers, counted herself among them, but she had never liked being the only woman on board.

“Is there going to be trouble?” Georgia had asked as she’d help Lady P aboard, but Penny had just laughed.

“Hopefully not, if all goes according to plan.”  She had disappeared with the captain, leaving Georgia with her bags.

That was a week ago; there was another week until they returned to port, and Georgia was so deep in trouble she barely knew which way to turn.  Sometimes, ships brought out the worst in people, the endless motion and noise and awareness of other people rubbing raw any hidden sore points.  But Penny was still just as delightful as she had been the day they had set sail.

Georgia had to bite her tongue to stop herself saying something stupid every time their paths crossed.  Even on a ship this size, that was often.  So she’d taken to hiding in the engine room, or the bridge, or any part of the ship that didn’t hold a Penny.

The day had dawned, bright and clear, promising a sticky tropic heat later.  But for now, the winds were calm and the sea like a mirror, so clear that Georgia could see every colour of corral, the flashing fins of fish.  The water was a shock of cold as Georgia rolled off the dive platform they’d set up for the researchers next to the mooring, but even without a wetsuit, she felt comfortable, buoyed by salt water and the gentle tug of the tides.

She paddled, her snorkel and the flash of her flippers the only thing breaking the surface, chasing fish until she became aware of someone calling her name.

Penny was standing on the floating dock, her light sundress fluttering around her legs as she walked the length of the platform, her hand raised to shield her face from the sun as she scanned the waterline.  “Georgia!” she called again.

Georgia considered staying low, maybe even giving up on people in general and becoming the fish queen instead.  But instead, she blew hard to clear her snorkel and swam back towards the platform, her dolphinesque strokes closing the distance quickly.

Penny crouched down on the dock as Georgia tossed her snorkel and goggles onto the dock. “There you are,” Penny beamed. “I’ve barely seen you these last few days.”

Georgia shrugged, staying low in the water, hanging off the ladder so her arms took the strain.  “Been busy,” she replied with a little shrug.  “What’s shakin’, bacon?” she added, trying and failing to act natural.

Penny wasn’t fooled, and didn’t try to hide it.  She slipped out of her sandals and sat on the edge of the dock, her feet in the water.  Georgia paddled back slightly, maintaining her distance.  “Well,” Penny began.  “What’s ‘shaking’ is that I appear to have offended you, given that you have been avoiding me.” Georgia spluttered, a dozen excuses ready.  Penny kicked water in her face.  “Do me the courtesy of not lying, please?”

Georgia sighed, letting her head tip back.  “It’s not your fault.  It’s me, I’m…well, it’s just….”

Penny splashed her again.  “Words, darling.  Use your words.”

Georgia splashed back, careful not to get Penny’s beautiful dress wet.  “Words are hard,” she retorted.

Penny patted the dock next to her invitingly, and Georgia had to curl backwards into a little arcing dive through the water to wash away her blush, reset her expression into something that wouldn’t destroy their friendship.  Penny was still waiting patiently as she surfaced, so Georgia tossed her fins up, one after the other, then reached for the ladder.

It had been so long, she didn’t even think of it until she heard Penny’s tiny gasp.  “What?” she followed Penny’s gaze, down to where she was staring at Georgia’s skin, bare between the scraps of her bikini, the pale lines of scars like a map scrawled across tanned skin.  “Oh, yeah.  That.”  She fought the urge to cross her arms; her scars were a part of her now, a marker of all she’d reclaimed.  “They look worse than they are, don’t worry about it.”

Penny was blushing as she turned away.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”  Despite herself, Penny’s gaze crept back to look at all the places the doctor’s had stitched her back together again.  

Georgia shook her head in fond exasperation.  “It’s okay, Penny.  You can look.  I really don’t mind.”

Penny turned hesitantly, her gaze growing bolder as Georgia leaned back, resting on her hands as she let Penny look her fill.  “It really doesn’t hurt?” Penny asked in concern.

“Not anymore,” Georgia replied, looking at the horizon so she didn’t have to look at Penny’s face.  

The first touch, gentle and hesitant, took her by surprise, and she almost leapt out of her skin.  “Sorry,” Penny stammered, her composure melted as she retreated back.  “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay,” Georgia repeated, trying not to shiver despite the bright sunlight.  “Really, it’s okay.  Besides,” she added, tilting her head to look at Penny in profile.  “I know it’s hard to resist all this awesome.”  She even waved her hand down her length.

It worked, Penny bursting into appalled laughter.  “Georgia!”

Georgia nodded to herself – Penny should always be smiling.  “See, better,” she chirped as she laid back on the dock.  The surface was already warm, drying her out as she closed her eyes briefly.

She heard movement, and cracked an eye to see that Penny had twisted herself on the edge of the dock, one foot still in the water even as she looked back at Georgia.  Penny’s eyes were sharp as she studied Georgia intently.  “What?” she asked suspiciously.

“I notice that you still haven’t fully answered my question.  Why have you been avoiding me?”  She smiled as Georgia groaned, flinging one arm over her face.  “Using your words,” she prompted.

Georgia sat up abruptly.  “I just really like you,” she blurted out.  “And that’s my problem, and I need to figure out how to deal with that.”

Penny froze for a second, then a soft, warm blush spread across her cheeks.  “Oh,” she breathed faintly, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.  “Yes.  I see.”

Georgia winced, feeling angry with herself and her stupid inability to keep her stupid mouth stupidly shut.  “Yeah, so, well, there’s that.”  Rolling forward, Georgia got her feet under her.  In just her bikini, she felt overexposed.  She reached for her dive gear to have something in her hands.  “I promise, I won’t let it get weird,” she added, biting her lip too late to stop the words.

Penny had risen to her feet as well, and she was dusting down her dress with light sweeps of her hand.  “I think it’s a bit late for that,” she noted gently, and Georgia winced again.

“Yeah.  Right.  Sorry.”  She turned to head back up to the boat, but was stopped by a light touch on her shoulder.  She looked from the hand up to Penny’s smile.

“No harm done.  No need to apologize.”

“Penny,” Georgia began.  She felt tired, already wrung out, and Penny’s secret little smile wasn’t helping her regain her balance.  “I….”

The touch of Penny’s fingers, resting lightly on Georgia’s jaw, stopped her cold.  “Take your time,” Penny murmured.  “I can wait.”  The finger dropped to rest briefly over Georgia’s pulse, taking in the speed of the beats with a softly sensual stroking touch. They both froze, just for a second, and then Penny was moving past her.

It took Georgia a full minute to close her mouth again, but by then, Penny was long gone.

 * * 

The next time she saw Penny, Georgia was sitting with her sisters in the New York penthouse, listening to Alana talk at a mile a minute as she always did.  Georgia looked up to see Penny smiling at her, just for a moment, before Scarlet came over and whisked her away to talk business and missions and objectives.

Georgia turned back to her sister, grinning to herself.   _Challenge accepted, m’lady_ , she thought.  

She’d formed her crush around this untouchable Lady, but now Penny was smiling at her and making her feel giddy and stupid and Georgia was ready to try anything to see that smile again.

And after all these years, she had come to love the climb.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speed is the only way to be free.
> 
> [[last mood board](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/153061615963/same-verse-as-these-scarlet-jane-virginia)]

Alana hated living under the weight of never being good _enough_.

Her sisters were four points above and beyond her, each with their immense gravity, their own achievements and abilities that she could never hope to match, and knew better than to try.

There was the heavy burden of her parents, both gone now.  She never told anyone that the memories were slipping, unanchored and unmoored, but still enough to buffet her every time she realized she wasn’t always honouring their legacy.

And so Alana ran, and when her legs couldn’t carry her any faster, she found better ways to outrace them all – cars in the beginning, then planes, but the first time she took command of a rocket, felt the power of the engines push her back into her seat, she felt _weightless._

This was something she could do.

 *

Jane is analytical, Scarlet driven by process.  They both try to train her, but Alana struggled sometimes to understand the concepts through the lenses they used.

Georgia is closer to her, both in age and mindset.  Georgia trusts muscle memory implicitly, understand the value of instinct.

Virginia, in this as in all things, is the middle ground, the fulcrum around which their little family pivots.

So when Alana needed facts and figures, processes and protocols and official sanction, she goes to Scarlet or Jane.  When she needed a co-conspirator, she goes to Georgia.  And when she needed  _help,_ she goes to Virginia.

But sometimes, more often now than she’d like, she’s not even sure what her problem is.

That’s when she seeks out Kayo.

Kayo used to be as bad as Scarlet, but she’s getting better at getting past seeing Alana as anything but the chubby-cheeked baby.  Allie appreciated the effort.  Kayo is the one she trusted the most to tell her straight when she was being stupid or if she’s onto something.  Around Kayo, Allie trusted her instincts more, second-guesses less.

Allie no longer argued when Kayo slipped into Three’s jump seat.  She just finished her pre-flight checks and reached for the throttle.

 * *

Out of all of them, Allie’s the one who has spent the least time in New York.  In principle, New York should be her kind of town, loud and bright and fast and always moving.

But New York is loud and fast and bright in all the ways that grind against her senses after more than a day or two.

Scarlet is bringing her out more and more now, and Allie’s starting to spot the pattern.  Scarlet brings Allie to act as her assistant when she’s being Ms Tracy, head of the company now that their father is gone.

The more Allie sees of the weight her sister bears, the less Alana wants any part of it.  Everyone wants a piece of Scarlet’s time, her energy, her attention, and it’s all Allie can do to race with Scarlet from meeting to factory tour to function, to cocktails with investors.  By the time they stagger back to the New York penthouse, Allie’s feet are aching and she’s exhausted.  “Do we need to keep doing this?”

Scarlet scruffed her hair, the movement turning into petting as Scarlet gently ran her fingers through Alana’s hair.  Alana whimpered tiredly and lets herself fall face-first into Scarlet’s arms.  “This lets us be Thunderbirds, kiddo.  So yes.”

The words ring around Alana’s dreams.  She woke up exhausted, but forced herself to get up, get dressed, so she’s ready to stand with her sister to face another day.

 * *

It’s a charity race, nothing too serious, but Scarlet had spoken about _good publicity,_ about having a Tracy Industries car racing for a good cause with a Tracy at the wheel.  Virginia had at that point just started reading out the stats from the engineers’ summary until Alana was drooling about getting her hands on that much horsepower, then poured her on the plane to Monaco.

They’re all watching her now, from the corporate booth; even Jane who came down specially.  They’re up there, in pretty frocks, drinking champagne and charming stockholders.  

Allie’s happy to be down here, where the smell of gasoline and rubber are almost overpowering.  The race suit is different from her uniform, but fits just as snugly as she made her last inspections.  Brains himself rapped his knuckles against her helmet, and she nodded readiness.

As they pushed her into poll position, Alana let her breathing steady, her focus narrow and yet relaxed, already three turns ahead up the track.  Second place wouldn’t do: she was Alana Kathryn Tracy, racing under her family colours.  She had to show them all what she and her sisters had to offer the world.

This was something she could do


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virginia doesn’t often carry her sisters, but when pancakes are on the line, all bets are off.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”

Jane cursed and rolled in her bed, dragging her covers up over her head.

Virginia just laughed, stepping over to the bed to grab a handful of covers.  She _yanked_ , and Jane swore again as sunlight slammed into her closed eyes.  “Go away,” Jane added.  “I’m _sleeping_.”

“No, you’re cursing.  Don’t let Scarlet hear you, she’ll wash that filthy, filthy mouth out with soap,” Virginia told her, puttering around the room.  Nothing got Jane moving faster than messing with her stuff, and Georgia had made it pretty clear that pancakes would not be forthcoming until all Tracy Sisters were present and accounted for. 

Jane groaned, her arm across her eyes, as Virginia explained the situation.  “Janie, girl,” Virginia added.  “I love you, but you are not pancake-blocking me by sleeping in.  Not this morning.”

The hand at the end of the arm currently slung across Jane’s face twitched, extending a single digit, and Virginia made an overly-scandalized noise.  “Oh bless and mercy,” she drawled.  “Such crudity, I do declare I’m getting the vapours.”  She bent down, picked up a pillow, and hurled it at Jane.  “Now quit being a whiner and _get up_.”

Jane made a pained noise as she rolled onto her side.  “I only got back down last night.   _Late_  last night.  Gravity sucks, and sunlight sucks, and the air is wrong, and this bed smells weird, but I just want to _sleep_.”  She drawled the last word into a whine that would do Alana proud.

Virginia wandered over and patted Jane’s forehead.  “Sucks to be you,” she said solicitously.  “But pancakes beat everything, so move your ass.”

Jane stuck out her tongue and hauled up her sheet over her head.

Virginia looked up at the sound of a knock on the doorframe.  Allie was hanging off the frame.  “Does it live?” she asked, grinning.  “Because Georgia wants to know if you want blueberry or nutella pancakes.”

Virginia blinked.  “There’s nutella in this house?  Right,” she declared, making an executive decision.  “Tell them we’ll be right there.”   She turned back to the bed as Allie thundered away.

Jane had curled up in a foetal ball under the thin sheet.

Virginia shook the kinks out of her arms, made sure the sheets’ edges were all untucked, slid her hands under the lump on the bed, and hoisted Jane up in one clean lift.

Jane squawked, her flailing arm clipping Virginia’s ear.  “Settle down, you big baby, I’ve got you,” Virginia grumbled, trying to juggle Jane into an good hold.

Jane was surprisingly light; worrying light, in fact.  “Weren’t you telling me just the other day how you PB-ed your deadlift weight,” Jane retorted petulantly after Virginia said the thought aloud. 

“You’re still too skinny.  I prescribe pancakes.”

Jane poked Virginia in the shoulder, but made no move to be put down as Virginia carefully navigated their way out the door and down the hall.  “You can’t prescribe shit, and anyway, I’m the doctor in this house.”

“PhD, not MD, and there’s Brains, who, by the way, has more doctorates than you, so nyah.”

Jane went limp in Virginia’s arms with a put-upon sigh.  “Bastard has more degrees than a thermometer,” she moaned.  “I’ll catch up one day.”

Virginia just grinned; Jane and Brains’ long-running intellectual arms race was still at a nil-all draw, and Virginia had heard about it from both sides at length.  She concentrated on descending the stairs, a step at a time.  “Whatever you say, sis.”

On the main level, the scents of pancakes, bacon frying, and strong coffee all mingled in the air.  Virginia felt Jane’s chest expand as she breathed in deep.  “You’re on holiday, Janie,” Virginia said, gently decanting Jane onto the couch.  “Eat all of the pancakes.”

Jane wriggled, getting settled.  “Tell Georgie I want bananas on mine.”  

Jane burst out laughing as Virginia bowed deep like a courtier, and Virginia reveled in the sound.

“Are you giving rides, V?” Allie asked from the other side of the couch.  “Me next!”  Before Virginia could react, Allie leapt over Jane and into Virginia’s arms, clinging on like a spider monkey.

As Jane continued to laugh, Virginia swung her sister around onto her back and bounded around the room.

The sun was shining, and her sisters were laughing, close by and safe, and Virginia just wanted to stay in the moment forever.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the crash, Georgia’s in so many pieces, no-one knows if she’ll every be put back together again.

Georgia’s in pieces, and no-one will say if she’ll ever be put back together again.

None of them are religious, they’re all too old for fairy tales.  But Scarlet is feeling the urge to get down on her knees, right there in that blankly neutral waiting room and plead with god, or the devil, or Zeus, or fate itself, to get her sister back.

The last time she’d seen Georgia, _her_ Georgia, whole and well and not the shattered shell in that hospital bed, had been three days ago. Scarlet can’t even remember what the argument was about – shoes maybe? Or was it that Georgia borrowed Scarlet’s tablet again, watching stupid videos about fish in her room while Scarlet was tearing up the living room looking for her device.

Whatever it was didn’t matter now.

Right now, Scarlet has to sit in that blankly neutral waiting room, all beige tones and plastic flowers, and face the fact that the last thing she may ever have said to her sister would have been _I hate you_.

Scarlet had stormed out after the argument, Georgia’s own curses trailing behind her.  She’d been alone in the coffee shop near her apartment when she’d seen the breaking news of the hydrofoil crash, her little sister’s face smiling out from a file photo.

The photo had been taken just after the Olympics, just when Georgia had started to let her hair grow long around the ears.  It had been a terrible first thought to have on seeing the news, but it had seemed the only information Scarlet’s brain had seemed able to process.

The entire ride to the hospital, her mind played on loop a vague little memory of the way Georgia had constantly been tucking a golden curl behind her ear for most of the fall, until it had finally grown long enough to settle.

They’d shaved big patches of Georgia’s hair off, to better affix the monitors and sensors.  “She’s gonna be so pissed to be bald when she wakes up,” Virginia had said when Scarlet had first arrived, running through the hospital until she found Virginia watching the trauma team through the glass, as close as they were allowed to get while every vital sign was so critical.

Scarlet had sprinted to the bathroom, diving between staff as she skidded down the hall.  Jane followed, had held her hair as Scarlet vomited until there was nothing but bile left.

The three of them had sat on the tiles and cried.

That had been hours ago.  Now their little neutral beige world was slowly filling up with the rest of their family, Georgia’s friends who had watched the disaster from the other boat.  The room was getting too warm, too close, too many people, too many quiet conversations.

Too like a funeral already.

The door opened again, all heads turning to look, desperate for news though it would probably be hours yet.  Grandma was pale, eyes red but dry as she gently chivvyed Allie before her.  Allie was still in her school uniform, her eyes huge beneath her bangs.  “Scar?” she asked, sounding so young and so afraid.

Scarlet had opened her arms, and Allie rocketed into her embrace.  Scarlet felt Jane lean in, Virginia’s steady hand resting on her back, felt the way Allie was trembling.

She couldn’t lose Georgia.  She couldn’t lose any of them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet never enjoyed board meetings much, but this time, it was the ‘sweetheart’ that did it.

It was the “sweetheart” that did it.

She knew this corporate retreat was going to be boring, and long, and boring.  Very very boring.  But her father had asked, coming around to sit on the front edge of his desk.  “It will be yours one day, Red,” he’d explained, making it sound so easy, so right, like he always did.  “Yours and your sisters.  But they’ll look to you for guidance, you need to know this stuff, know what questions you should be asking me now.”

Scarlet had agreed, as much to get him to stop talking of a time when he wouldn’t be _here_  as anything.  Besides, he was right; Scarlet knew she probably wouldn’t be re-upping for another tour, that the company was a duty she couldn’t shirk.

And so she’d packed a bag and gone.

She’d made it through the first day sketching a new aileron all over the quarterly  financial report. The second morning, she’d spotted an error in the third slide of figures for the new airship line, and had then spent a surprisingly enjoyable hour pulling apart their calculations.

A few of the younger ones, juniors brought into this meeting for their special talents or to report on their projects, dared to edge close enough to the boss’s daughter to talk over lunch, and the conversation distracted her from the dry bagels – though not enough to miss the dark looks being shot their way by some of the senior management.

She recognized some of _their_ names from years of listening to her father scheme.  She stopped drawing plane parts and started taking notes from the back of the room for the rest of the day.

As the final presenter, a man deeply in love with the sound of his own voice if she was any judge, finally brought his talk to a close, Scarlet let her hand show over the sea of heads.  “Yes,” he said, his smile taking on an oily quality.  “A question, Miss Tracy?”

“Could you please go back to slide…twenty three, please,” she requested, glancing at the numbers scrawled at the top of her notes.  “Yes, there.  Could you explain the discrepancies in the fourth production line, particularly the gross mismatch between purchase orders listed on page thirty-six of the quarterly report, and the volume outputs you noted on slide twelve please?”  The purchases orders, in their neat columns, had given her plenty of white space for her sketched redesigns for a jet control system, but something about the numbers themselves had stuck in her subconscious, only springing into focus as the slides had rolled past in the presentation.

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed as she saw the way the speaker’s hand touched the knot of his old-school tie, the ways his eyes flickered, down and to the left.  “Listen, sweetheart, it’s…”

“Captain,” Scarlet corrected, letting some steel into her voice.  She rose slowly, using her height to full advantage, letting everyone see Jeff Tracy’s girl.  “Captain Tracy, in fact.  But right now, I’m here on behalf of _Jeff_ Tracy, and I have been empowered to act as I see fit.”  She narrowed her eyes, noting who was watching with interest, who looked uncomfortable, hoping like hell she wasn’t out on a ledge here.  But he was squirming, and Scarlet trusted her instincts.  “And I see fit to freeze your division until a full audit can take place.  Ravi?” she asked her father’s COO, who had materialized by her elbow.

“It will be done immediately, ma’am,” he affirmed, sketching a nervous little bow before snapping his fingers.

The room exploded into movement. Scarlet stalked out, waiting until she was safely alone in the elevator before pulling out her comm.  “Dad?  I may have poked a hornets nest.”

Three months later, Scarlet looked up as her father set down a bottle of scotch and a final audit report next to her workstation. “Good work, Red.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When did sister’s night turn into double-date night?

“Dress nice,” was all Virginia had said before hanging up the line.

Georgia stood, stock still for a moment, blinking at nothing.   _Dress nice_ , from a woman who would wear overalls twenty-four seven if grandma let her get away with it.  The novelty alone stopped Georgia from calling back and demanding answers, though the two words nagged her all day, through until she was standing under the shower.  She paused, letting her arms drop from where she’d been lathering up her shampoo.  “Since when did sisters night involve _dressing nice?”_

_*_

Georgia had clothes spread across a dozen homes on three different continents, but there was surprisingly slim pickings in the wardrobes of the New York penthouse.  Georgia very nearly opted for the black micromini with the slit nearly up to her belly button, but Virginia had made noises about getting the first round, and anyway, Virginia was the only sister left who’d let Georgia vent for more than five minutes about whatever was on her mind before telling her to suck it up.

Instead, she went for the fitted pantsuit, sleek black pencil pants with matching heels that almost brought her up to Virginia’s altitude.  She left her hair out, barely dry and bouncing around her shoulders.  Stealing a clutch from Scarlet’s ridiculous collection, Georgia headed out to see what was so special about tonight that demanded high heels and makeup.

Virginia was always easy to spot in a crowd, and Georgia swam through the press of people with an ease born of long expertise.  “Ok, I’m here, what’s so…oh, hi Brains.”  Georgia’s brain almost made a screetching noise as it jumped track mid-flow.  “I didn’t know you would be joining us,” she added, giving Virginia a meaningful look.  “On sister’s night.”

Virginia just leaned forward on the bar, the motion doing things to her already impressively displayed cleavage.  “Special dispensation, one night only,” she said, winking.  “Don’t worry, I’m playing fair.”

“What does–” was as far as Georgia got before a pale pink clutch passed by her to come to rest on the bar.

Penny was a vision in pale rose pink, the lacework of her dress’s bodice tucking in under a wide band that emphasized her slender waist, before the tulle skirt flared out over bare legs.  Her low, strappy sandals meant she had to look up as she gathered as much of Virginia in as she could reach to hug.  “Thank you for the invitation, darling,” she purred, brushing past Virginia to peck a kiss to Brains’ cheek.

Only then did she turn to smile at Georgia. It had been weeks since the ship, since Penny had vanished in the middle of the night without a word.  They hadn’t had a moment’s privacy since to speak to each other, and Penny hadn’t gone out of her way to find one.  

“Penny,” Georgia said flatly.  She blinked, shook her head, pasted on a fake smile.  “Would you two excuse us for a moment, I need to have quick word with my sister.”  The last word was almost snarled as she yanked Virginia away from the bar.

Virginia managed to grab her glass before Georgia towed her far enough away to be out of earshot.  “V, what the _hell_  is going on?”

Virginia took a long, slow sip.  “You scrub up alright, Georgie-porgy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Georgia said, jabbing her finger back towards the bar.  “Explain.”

Virginia shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with herself.  “You’re annoying when you’re mopey.  And Jane is, and I quote, ‘sick of this hearts eyes bullshit.’  So, well, Brains and I, we’re engineers.  We engineered a solution.  That’s what we do.”

Georgia’s eyes narrowed.  “Virginia Mae Tracy.  Is this a double date?”

Virginia actually patted her on the head, and Georgia was too stunned to react.  “You can thank me later, sis.  Come on.”

Georgia went through a dozen facial expressions in the space of a second.  “But, no, wait.  Does _she_  know this?”

Virginia looked back over her shoulder.  “In that dress?  Georgia, trust me.   _She knows_.” 

Grinning, Virginia pushed a path back to where Brains and Penny were watching the bartender pour out shots.  Penny lifted her shotglass up high as the others took their own with varying levels of enthusiasm.  Georgia took a deep breath and looked right at Penny.

Penny met her gaze, steady and open.  “To new beginnings,” she proposed.

“Na Zdorovie,” Virginia agreed, clinking her glass around before tossing back the shot.

Georgia and Penny didn’t look away as they tapped their tiny glasses together. “Yeah,” Georgia murmured at last, feeling her own smile bloom. “I’ll drink to that.”

The burn of the shot brought heat to her cheeks.  Next to her, Penny started giggling.  Over her head, Virginia gave her a meaningful nod and turned to talk to Brains. Georgia smiled back, and edged closer to Penny.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virginia hated being sick, but somehow Brains made everything feel better.

Virginia had tried everything, from hot tea to steam and a towel, to some of the stronger remedies in the med bay – but nothing had worked.

Everyone said the best cure for a cold was _time._ Everyone else could breathe without choking though, so everyone else could get lost as far as she was concerned.

Except maybe grandma.  Her idea of a cure was time _and_  a stiff whiskey.  Grandma could stay.

Virginia groaned at the light tap on the door.  “And h-how’s the patient?” Brains asked, pushing the door wide to let MAX roll in and over to her bedside.

“Sick of being sick,” Virginia moaned, hating the way her words slurred, barely recognizable around her blocked nose and scratchy throat.  But she reached out to pat MAX’s carapace, getting a happy chirrup in return.

Brains had picked up her other hand, his small device measuring her temperature and blood pressure and a dozen other variables in seconds.  “Your fever is still going down, that’s excellent.”

“I feel like crap,” she moaned.

Brains didn’t react.  “As you have said.  Repeatedly.”

Virginia pouted.  “I am sick, and you are my boy, you should shower me in tea and sympathy.”

MAX spun on the spot on cue, opening his back hatch to reveal toast and tea and orange juice, set out on a tray complete with a single tropical flower on a vase.  “Does that meet requirements?” Brains asked.

“I adore you so much right now, I won’t even kiss you,” she crowed, reaching for the teacup.  Her throat was so dry it _prickled_.

Brains laughed, gently pressing a kiss to the back of her hand that he was still holding.  Virginia wasn’t the kind of girl to swoon, but occasionally Brains made her knees go weak.  “I’ll leave you to your rest, I need to finish Three’s checklist,” he said apologetically.  “No MAX, you stay here.”

Virginia’s high flush was due to more than her fading fever as Brains sketched a little bow to her as he left.  

MAX chirped again as Virginia reached for the toast, slathered in honey, just as she liked it.  “He’s pretty  okay, isn’t he MAX?”

MAX trilled happily, and Virginia had to agree.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all remember their parents differently.

Scarlet sometimes wishes she could remember their parents the way Allie does.

It’s unfair, both to their memory and to Alana, but Scarlet is probably the only one out of them who remembers their father, at least, as an adult.  Jane might, but she’s never spoken of it, and there is no way in hell Scarlet is going to ask.

Scarlet remembers, vividly, the first time she saw her father make a mistake.  Understanding that her father wasn’t infallible after all made her child’s view of the world crystallize and crash.  Everything he did after was coloured through those shards.

Her father seemed to understand; Scarlet felt the way he was towards her change.  Gone was the daddy who bounced her on his knee, swung her around at arms length, her first taste of speed.

He still loved her; that was never in doubt.  But now he was her father, and he  _pushed_ , hard, both when she needed the push and when all she wanted to do was _stop_.

“It’s for your own good, Red,” he’d said, calm in the face of a teenage tantrum.  “You’re going to leave me in the dust.  I know that.  But I need you to believe it.”

He’s been gone nearly a year now.  But Scarlet can still feel him pushing.

 ** 

Avalanches are the worst.  Jane still feels her palms get sweaty, even though she’s forced her voice to remain steady after years of practice.

Jane wonders if any of her sisters remember that she was meant to have been with her mother when she died.  She can still recall that day in the vague way an adult remembers being a child– disjointed fragments of the trip out, a promise of getting out the telescope later, the way the snow crunched under her boots. But then Grandma had done something, or said something, and Jane had decided to glue herself to her grandmother’s side for the rest of the day.

The pair of them were in the village when the avalanche hit.  Jane remembers the boom being loud, and her grandmother’s shout being louder.  She thinks she remembers her father holding onto her tight all through the night, but she’s not sure she’s imagining that part, painting him into the picture to stand guard against memories much worse.

She can’t remember what the last thing was that she said to her mother, no matter how hard she tried. 

Virginia and Georgia are on her scopes now, coming up on the avalanche head.  Jane toggles the comm.  “Be careful, you two.  Please.”

**

Virginia sees echoes of her ancestors in the strangest places.  Grandma swears her son took after her husband, but Virginia sees her grand mother in the way Georgia laughs, Jane’s sarcastic little eyerolls,

She wonders what Grandma sees in them, if she recognizes their dad in the way Scarlet snaps an order, or their mother in the way Alana tries to smile when all she wants to do is cry.

Virginia stands in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection, and wonders what ghosts Grandma sees in her.

** 

It’s been Georgia’s stock answer since she first started winning major races.

“My dad.”

Jeff Tracy, the hero, the astronaut who forged new paths, who build a literal stairway to heaven.  The titan of industry, the globally famous ‘rocket man.’  She sees the reporters fill in the adjectives, linking this emerging swimming star with the legend behind her.

It becomes a bit of a joke as she reaches the top of her game – _Georgia Sally Tracy, let me guess who your hero is?_ – and though dad never said a word, she thought he knew, understood what Georgia never got the chance to say.

‘My dad, the hero,’ she thinks to herself even as she smiles for the flashing cameras.  ‘Not the astronaut, or the businessman, but my dad.  He’s my hero.’

So they ask, and she says his name, and they run the same tired old story.

She never corrects them.  

**

Alana wishes she knew her parents better.

All she really remembers now are impressions, sense memories rather than the stories that Scarlet and Jane and Virginia tell.  She has no cohesive narrative of her own, has been left patching together other people’s stories, weaving her own net out of her sister’s memories.

She knew her parents loved her.

She just wish she had known who they _were._


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker isn’t sure he approves of Georgia dating Penny.

Parker had the most epic poker face Georgia had ever seen, and Georgia had played strip poker with supermodels.

Those girls knew how to hold a face.

But that was a long time ago, and in the here and now, Georgia was waiting for Penny to come downstairs so they could go on an actual date, the kind with dinner and a movie and a chaste kiss at the door at the end.

Georgia, despite popular opinion, knew how to do classy.  Occasionally.

But Penny was playing the part by being fashionably late in coming downstairs, leaving Georgia sitting on a pristine chintz sofa being glared at by Penny’s driver.  “Soooo,” Georgia drawled, sprawling back with her arms resting along the back of the sofa, even though all she wanted to do under his glare was curl up into a ball that protected the vital organs.  “How about that major weather event and/or local sports team?”

Parker blinked slowly once, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Tough crowd,” Georgia muttered, sitting forward.  “Come on Parker, I thought we were bros?”

“That hwas before, Miss Georgia,” Parker snapped out, each consonant crisp and clear.

Georgia knew what she should do – soothe ruffled feathers, make peace.  She never did what was good for her, though.  “Before your charge and I started making hearts eyes at each other across a crowded room, you mean?”

For an old man, Parker could _move_.  “I mean,” he said, that hint of a _h_ -sound doing nothing to mitigate the sudden air of menace as he glared at her, his face six inches from hers.  “That I am charged by His Lordship to protect her Ladyship from all threats, foreign and domestic.”  Parker raised one eyebrow slowly.  “Do we have an understanding, Miss Georgia?”

Georgia nodded, throat too tight to speak.

The menace vanished as Parker smirked brightly at her.  “Excellent.  And just to ensure fair play, I will act as chaperone.”

“Chaperone?” Georgia asked, jaw dropping.  “What is this, a middle school dance?”

Parker had resumed his post.  “With as much hanky-panky,” he confirmed with some satisfaction.  

Georgia was slumped in her seat as the door opened and Penny wafted through, a vision in silk.  She looked from Georgia to Parker.  “Everything all right?” she asked.

“Perfectly, m’lady,” Parker said as he bowed.  “I have brought the car around.”

Penny beamed.  “Excellent.  Georgia?  Shall we?”

Georgia pasted a smile on her face and took Penny’s hand, careful to keep Penny between her and Parker at all times.  “Coming.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Georgia talking smack on a rescue.

Scarlet had the comm line open and routed to her earpiece, and she hoped like hell no-one else was listening.

The floods had required all hands, and Scarlet had seconded Jane down to get her hands dirty somewhere around the point that Alana had started swaying on her feet.

Jane had grumbled and bitched the entire hour it had taken for the space elevator to bring her down to earth.  She’d shown up at the disaster command center, hair perfect, uniform pristine.

Georgia had taken one look and slapped a soaked and muddy toolkit into her arms.  “Time to work, princess.  At least until your noodly little arms get too tired to lift your tissues to wipe away your emo tears.”

Jane’s eyes had narrowed, and from that point it had been On.

Georgia could run on pure spite, and Jane never, ever backed down from a challenge.  Scarlet knew she probably should have called them out on it by now, but their back and forth taunts had driven their sector way past any projected cleanup model and into a possible IR record.

“Eyes on your shovel, Georgie-Porgie,” Jane was teasing.

“Just looking around to see who’s going to finish second,” Georgia retorted.

Scarlet signed off on a section and began the slog through the mud to where Virginia and Brains had set up an engineer’s command centre.  In her ear, she heard Georgia hiss and curse, probably slipping.  The mud was like ice.

“Hey Georgia,” Jane called out. “What’s the difference between you and a 3 week old puppy? In a couple of weeks the puppy will stop whining.”

“Get your popcorn ready,” Georgia snapped back.  “Because I’m gonna put on a show.” 

Virginia looked up from her map and rolled her eyes as she pointed to her own comm in her ear as the bickering continued.

On the channel, Georgia’s tone had turned viciously sassy.  “It’s not arrogance if you can back it up, Janie, and don’t you forget it.”

Jane’s snort was loud over the comms.  “That’s like saying you’re the principal of a home school,” she retorted.  There was a wet, muddy slap, and Jane cursed.  “You fucker, you did that on purpose.”

Scarlet tapped her IR badge.  “Five, Four, enough.  We’re meant to be professionals, remember.”

“She started it,” echoed down the line in stereo.

Scarlet rolled her eyes and muted her comm.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana didn’t want anyone to worry about her on the rescue; it was just a cold, after all…

Alana woke up and wished she hadn’t.

She lay still, unwilling to try moving until her world stopped spinning.  Her room was dimly lit, the kind of deep shadows you only got very late at night on the island, but she had no recollection of getting there.

She tried to think, but her head was throbbing, her throat flayed raw.  She tried to swallow against the pressure on her larynx, and almost bent double with the cough that movement ripped out of her.

“Hey, it’s okay.”  Alana was too busy coughing up her lungs to do more than grope blindly for Georgia’s hand.  Finally, slowly, her coughing fit eased.

Georgia helped her ease back onto the pillows before tucking her in under the covers.  “What happened?” Alana croaked, every word ripping against her raw throat.

Georgia turned to reach for the bedside table, producing a bottle of brightly coloured water.  She held out the straw to Allie’s lip.

The sweet electrolyte mixture was like an icy balm as it slid down her throat.  “What happened?” Georgia repeated, too bright and brittle as she watched Alana sip the drink.  “Is that you passed out on Two on the way back from that rescue in India.  You had a temperature of 102 for a moment there.”  Alana let go of the straw with a sigh, and Georgia sat back.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  Why didn’t you say you weren’t feeling okay?”

Allie coughed, clearing the phlegm from her throat.  She shrugged, avoiding Georgia’s eyes.  “It was a rescue, it’s what we do.”

Georgia’s fingers were cool as she took Alana’s chin and guided her face up to look at her.  “What’s the first rule of rescue?”

Alana sighed, wincing slightly at the burn, and closed her eyes.  “Never do anything that would make the rescuer the rescuee,” she recited, almost singing it despite the pain in her throat.

“Exactly.” Georgia’s fingers slipped up along Alana’s cheeks to rest against her forehead.  Alana almost whimpered at how good the coolness felt against her feverish skin.  “We need to be able to rely on each other.”

The ‘ _we’re all we’ve got’_ went unspoken.

Alana was feeling the slow creep of _shame_ , and she squirmed, trying to get more comfortable on her sheets.  She felt sticky, gross in that way that demanded a long shower and a longer sleep on clean sheets.  “I just didn’t…” she started, faltering to a stop almost immediately.

Georgia held out the straw again.  “Didn’t want, Allie?”

Alana hung her head, biting her lip.  “You only just started letting me come out on the big rescues.  I didn’t…I mean, I want to do this, I know I can, and I want to learn, and…”

Georgia laid her hand over Alana’s mouth.  “Slow.  Down,” she ordered, waiting for Alana’s little nod before she let her hand fall.  “We know you can too.  But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell us you were sick.”

The heat in her cheeks was only partially due to her fever.  “Georgia, promise you won’t tell Scar.” Georgia thought for a moment, then held out her pinky.  Alana hooked hers around Georgia’s, sealing the pact.  “I don’t want to give her a reason to ground me.  Let me finish,” she added as Georgia started to scoff.  “I hated seeing you go out without me.”  Her fingers picked clumsily at her covers.  “I remember going to bed with a father and waking up without one.  I couldn’t live if that happened to any of you, too.  I want to be with you.”

Georgia’s gaze was steady, considering.  “I can’t promise that everything will always be fine.  We all know how quickly the world can change.”  Georgia idly took a sip of Alana’s drink before holding out the straw to her once more.  “But we’re a team, and a team trusts each other. We tell each other things so the others know to pick up the slack.  We need to be able to believe each other when they say ‘I’m good.’  Do you get that, Allie-rat?”

Alana rolled her eyes, but nodded as she took the drink bottle and clutched it close, sucking on the straw until all she was getting was air.  “You’re not mad?”

“Furious,” Georgia said with a smile.  “Come on, Allie, you’re a big girl now, you know what the haters say.  We’ve got to be twice as good to be taken half as seriously by some of those guys.”  She gently pushed Alana’s shoulder into the pillows.  “Show no weakness, take no prisoners.”

Alana’s little laugh turned into a coughing fit.  “Sorry,” she muttered when she could finally breath again.

Georgia stroked her forehead again.  “Don’t let it happen again.  Now sleep, or I’ll send Doctor Scarlet in, and you know her bedside manner.”

Alana could already feel her eyelids growing heavy.  “Get better, or else,” she muttered.

Georgia’s lips were as soft as a ghost where they brushed against her temples.  “Exactly.  Sweet dreams, halfpint.”

Alana was already asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia and her terrible, terrible taste in shirts.

This [monstrosity](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fuglyalohashirts.com%2Fcollections%2Fmens%2Fproducts%2Fbeach-van-go-orange-hawaiian-shirt&t=M2RmYWIzMGQ5MWFmYjMxN2Y2Y2QwOWY0ZTQ3ZjlkNmYyODhkMDFmYyw2MFpPeWhmbg%3D%3D&b=t%3Ab-bETJf6-dBKrrIDzur2qw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fakireyta.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F153550487073%2Fnavigatorsnorth-answered-your-question&m=1) was currently making her eyes bleed.  “There is such a thing as too much orange,” Virginia said, covering her eyes with her hands.  She dared spread her fingers, but the neon glow drove her back under cover.

Georgia just laughed as she spun on the spot, showing off the pattern and quite possibly downing any small planes who may have got caught in the blast of colour.  “This is an awesome shirt.  Bask in its awesomeness, Ginny-G.”

Virginia waved her away, still with her eyes covered.  “Only if by bask do you mean get radiation poisoning.  I swear, I need my welding mask just to look at you.”

Georgia just laughed again. “This is my new favourite shirt.”

Virginia had to take a moment to think that statement through.  “That’s new.  You mean you actually put cash down for that tire fire with buttons?”

Georgia paused her twirling.  “No, I didn’t buy it.”

Virginia breathed out.

“Jane did, and had it couriered over.  Early birthday present, she said.”

“ _Jane_ bought that?” Virginia exclaimed, forgetting herself for a moment and getting a full blast of orange to the eyeballs as she looked at the shirt once more.  “Wait, it’s like eight months til your birthday, right?”

“Yeah, but her’s is next month,” Georgia grinned like a shark.  “I told you not to piss her off yesterday, but did you listen?”

Virginia felt her jaw drop.  She closed it with a snap, spun on her heel, and stalked off to go have a brief, possibly violent chat with her sister.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet and Jane have always looked out for each other.

When Jane was six and Scarlet was seven, Scarlet would cross the school yard of their tiny Kansas school every day to collect Jane from the door of her classroom.  She’d collar her sister, settle the tiny backpack more evenly across Jane’s shoulders, and steer her onto the path back to the farm.

Half the time, Jane never looked up from her book, already engrossed in words she shouldn’t yet know how to read.  But she went wherever Scarlet pointed her, trusting her sister to lead her home.

 * * *

When Scarlet was thirteen and Jane was twelve, Jane would stay up past her bedtime, waiting on the stairs for Scarlet to get back from the functions she’d started accompanying their father too.

Scarlet would meet her on the stairs, too tired even to cry, but Jane would take her by the hand and lead her to bed.  The last thing Scarlet remembered was Jane’s gentle touch as she tucked her older sister in just like their mother used to.

 * * *

When Jane was nineteen and Scarlet was twenty, Scarlet took some of her precious leave from training, hitching a ride on a military transport to sit in the hallway outside Jane’s dissertation defense.

When Jane emerged, punch-drunk and smiling, clutching a stack of notes to her chest like a shield, Scarlet walked her back to her apartment and made her a proper dinner.  Jane almost fell asleep on her plate, but let Scarlet move her onto the couch before collapsing on Scarlet’s shoulder.

 * * *

When Scarlet was twenty-one and Jane was twenty, Jane stood at her sister’s side as the lawyers briskly went through the will, transferring the empire to the daughter of the king.  

Scarlet’s signature was shaky but legible.  Jane’s hand was cool and steady as she slid it into her sister’s and held on tight as everything that was their father’s became hers to run as she desired.

 * * *

When Jane was twenty-four and Scarlet was twenty-five, Scarlet had gotten used to mostly seeing her sister as a translucent hologram rather than the real person.  

The house was dark and still, the rest of the family asleep, when the gentle chime sounded to herald Jane’s virtual arrival.  “I thought my sensors caught a mouse stirring,” she teased by way of greeting.

Scarlet grinned even as she tossed down her stylus and sat back in dad’s chair.  “No rest for the wicked,” she retorted.  “Not even the extremely wicked.”

“Anything I can help with?” Jane asked.  Her hair was loosely bound, and strands had slithered loose to bob in the microgravity around her head, giving her face the aspect of a golden halo.

Scarlet glanced across the piles.  “Just company stuff I’ve been putting off, but thanks.”

Jane’s smile, even in reproduction, was lop-sidedly wry.  “I worry about you some days,” she admitted.

Scarlet tossed her stylus through the holo-field.  “Likewise, space case.  What’s say we ditch the paperwork and catch you up on the gossip.”

Jane’s smile was more honest this time.  “Oh no, what have the little ones been up to now?”

Scarlet felt far older than twenty-five, and she still sometimes forgot that Jane was twenty-four now, and not that tiny baby who came home to Kansas all those years ago.  But on nights like these, she was achingly grateful that Jane was her sister.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Water fights.

Usually it was Georgia who started things off.  But this time, it was Georgia who was the first victim.

Scarlet sat up, watching with interest as Georgia’s mouth flapped like a fish.  “What the _fuck_?”

Jane shrugged, still holding the bucket.  “I decided a pre-emptive strike was the tactically sound option after last time.”

Last time, as Scarlet suddenly recalled, involved Georgia shoving Jane into the pool straight from the space elevator, while Jane was still in uniform.  It turned out that space-rated didn’t mean splash-proof.

Georgia’s sigh was almost a growl as she stripped out of her hideous Hawaiian shirt.  The gaudy fabric made a pathetic splat as it was dropped onto the deck.  In just her board shorts and a sports bra, she stalked over to the racks built in beside the barbeque and began digging through the cupboard there.

Scarlet took off her sunglasses as Jane came over to perch beside her sister on the sun lounger, her bucket set gently by her feet.  “I’d be fleeing right now, if I were you,” Scarlet murmured. “That monstrosity was her new favourite shirt.”

Jane shrugged, eyes shadowed beneath her sunhat.  “Show no fear, expect no mercy,” she replied philosophically.

Scarlet gave her sister a small salute in respect.  “That was almost Klingon-esque.  I’m impressed.”

Jane gave her a slow, appraising look.  “Like you didn’t know Georgia’s got a dozen water pistols cached around here?”

Scarlet nodded.  “Why do you think I’m wearing my bikini. I’m pretty sure Penny’s been giving her counter-intelligence tips or something.”

Whatever Jane’s response might have been was cut off by a jet of water.

Across the deck, Georgia pumped up the pressure in her water rifle like it was shotgun.  “Anyone else want to say hello to my little friend?” she yelled.

Jane took off her hat, pouring the water out before dropping it on the lounger.  “Virginia, grandma?” she called out, sounding viciously sweet. “Why don’t you say hello.”

The torrent of water dropped straight down off the balcony onto Georgia’s head.  It seemed to go on forever, so long that Scarlet started counting under her breath.  When the flow finally ended, Scarlet saw Grandma leaning over the balcony, cackling like a loon.

Jane’s smile was smug.  “Never get into a water fight with engineers, Georgia.” 

As Jane basked in her victory, Scarlet’s questing fingers found what she was looking for under her own lounger.  The water pistol sloshed as she brought it up and around, basic training having conditioned her muscle memory for an optimal firing stance.

The thin squirt of water caught Jane directly behind the ear. Then it was _on._

When the truce was finally called, the seven women of Tracy Island stood at the edge of the pool, slowly dripping.  “Bags not being the one who has to clean the pool,” Alana said as she wrung out the hem of her swim shirt.

Grandma patted her shoulder, then pushed her almost kindly into the deep end.

Scarlet burst out laughing and leapt in after her, Georgia following so close she almost ended up on Scarlet’s shoulders.  Kayo’s dive was seamless, but grandma came in via the stairs.  

Only Jane stayed out, sitting on the edge, her legs dangling.  “You know who’s still dry on this island?  Brains.”

Virginia bit her fist, ducking under the water to muffle her laughter.  When she resurfaced, she mimed at them to be quiet.  “Hey, Brains?  Can you come out here for a second?”

Brains appeared, stepping cautiously across the sodden deck.  “I-i-is it safe?” he asked.

Virginia beamed up at him from where she was treading water.  “Nope.”

Jane obligingly pushed him in.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hood doesn’t care that he was beaten by a bunch of girls; he’s just mad he was beaten.

Despite some of those who traveled in his circles, he had no concerns about facing off against a group of girls.

He’d adopted their moniker of The Hood, accepted his fate to be their villain, however misguided they were about his intentions.  But he never underestimated them because of their gender.

They were privileged, righteous, and young enough to not have had the shine knocked off them yet.  They had wealth and power, and they used it to fly in like angels so as to satisfy their own egos.  That was reason enough to hate them.

After all, he’d watched his own niece grow up in their company, had seen how formidable young Tanusha had become.  And true, she was a Kyrano, had the same drive and grit and willingness to see the job through that he had.  Despite their cultural heritage that seemed to preference boys,  his brother’s child was a worthy adversary.

He didn’t give himself any kudos for being equal opportunity.  A girl could kill you dead just as fast as a boy.

Right now, he was lurking in Macao, making deals and marshaling resources for his next strike.  He heard the whispers and the rumours – _he was beat by a bunch of girls –_ but he paid them no mind.

The Tracy sisters had what was rightfully his – once he had the Thunderbirds, no-one would even remember their names.

History wasn’t kind to women who lost; he was going to make sure _he_ emerged the victor.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Kayo, trapped in a small space.

Kayo tried to breath shallowly, but it was getting hot in this crevice, the air growing stale.  She could feel a bead of sweat on her brow, but her hands were pinned down by her hips, and she couldn’t do anything except try to ignore the itchy, maddening crawl as it rolled slowly over her skin.

At least she had a few inches of clearance all around her head.  Jane had been forced to rest her cheek against Kayo’s belly, and Kayo could feel every sigh, every aborted twitch of movement.  “How you going, Jane?”

“Fine,” Jane whispered through gritted teeth.  “Though I’ve got dust in my eyes and my toes on my left foot are starting to tingle. They really need to get a move on.”

“They can only move rubble so fast.”  Kayo was painfully aware of how many tonnes of rock and steel were precariously balanced above their heads.  If Jane hadn’t moved as quickly as she had, tackling Kayo sideways into an alcove, they’d be crushed under it right now, and this wouldn’t be a rescue.

It’d be body recovery.

As it was, they were still hours from rescue.  Kayo had to fight the urge to get on the comm every other minute, demanding an update.  The others were moving as fast as they could, she had to trust that and let them work.

But Kayo had never really liked small spaces, though she’d grown to be able to tolerate them.  And from the twitches along her body where they were pressed together, she figured Jane needed some distracting too.  “How’d you know the roof was coming down?”  The first Kayo had known they were in trouble was when Jane had bodyslammed her sideways.

There was a long pause.  “Eos’ sensors picked it up,” she admitted.  “She told me to get out.”

Kayo forced herself not to react; pressed together, Jane would notice, and she’d react badly.  Jane was as protective of that pile of code as Kayo was wary – it had hurt people before, it was a viper in the nest, but Jane had won that war of words, and so Eos stayed.

For now.

Putting aside the implications of only telling Jane to go, Kayo tried to stretch her aching muscles.  It was hard, every movement at risk of knockng Jane into a wall. Kayo forced herself to still, and she cast about for another topic that wouldn’t end in another fight.  “So, how are you liking earth-based operations?”

That won her a small, bitter laugh.  “I miss hard vacuum.”

Kayo chuckled, and Jane made a noise of protest as the movement pushed her against the collapsed wall that had them pinned.  “Right now, vacuum is sounding pretty good,” Kayo agreed.

Jane’s hand flexed where it was resting against Kayo’s thigh.  “The day is young,” she said lightly, and Kayo choked on another chuckle.

The silence was easier this time. “Kayo?” Jane asked, clearing her throat.

“Yeah?”  Kayo tilted her head; was that just Jane coughing, or could she hear rubble shifting.

“I really need to pee.”

At that point, the plate of concrete above them was lifted away, a shaft of light cutting down onto Kayo’s face.  “Hey,” Allie said, beaming down at them.  

Kayo craned her neck, getting a sense of the scene above them.  Allie, tiny and light, a spider monkey on rubble, was shoring up the exposed edge of the hole.  As more detritus moved, Kayo caught a glimpse of Virginia in her new exosuit.  A rope slapped down, and Kayo heard Georgia calling out to someone, probably Scarlet.

“Careful,” Jane hissed as the collapsed ceiling was lifted away, showering them in dust.  “Squishy humans below.”

Georgia was laughing, calm and easy.  “I rigged this myself, Rangy-Janey,” Georgia sang out, crouching on the rim of concrete above them.

Kayo couldn’t see Jane’s face, but her voice was deadpan.  “So we’re doomed.  And don’t call me that.”

Allie slipped down into the opening space, a length of chain trailing behind her.  “So apparently you’re doomed?” Allie asked Kayo seriously.

“So I’ve heard,” Kayo replied, stretching her freshly freed hands for a moment before planting them against the nearest slab.  As she pushed, Virginia took the strain and hauled it clear.

The air that flooded in was fresh and cool.  “You alright there, Jane?” Kayo asked, automatically running her hands down Jane’s back, looking for injuries.

Jane was slow to push back, lethargic in her movements.  Kayo checked her again, worried.  She expected Jane to be moving like a scalded cat; Jane never, ever touched humans if she had a choice.

At least, she never touched Kayo.  Kayo couldn’t remember the last time Jane touched her for more than the second it took to pat a shoulder or an arm.  “Jane?” she asked quietly, letting the others work to clear more rubble.

“My foot has gone to sleep,” Jane murmured back.  “And if I bend at the middle right now, I might be getting wet boots, if you get my meaning.”

Kayo bit her lip to stop smiling.  “Well, the nearest bathroom is on Two.  If you can hold it that long.”  Kayo was losing the battle with her grin.  “Cross your legs,” she advised.

Jane’s look nearly laminated Kayo to the wall behind her.  “Climb out with crossed legs?  I’d just like to point out that last week I helped rescue three lost hikers from my bathroom.  On Five.  Where I’d like to be right now, please.”

“Well, to get into orbit, you first have to get out of this hole.”  Another rescue line flew in, slapping Kayo on the arm.  She tested the slack on the line as Georgia dropped down to help Allie pull them clear.  “But I’m going first.”  She winked as Jane finally pulled back to give Kayo enough room to maneuver.  “Just in case.”

Jane managed to land a light punch on Kayo’s shoulder before Kayo hauled herself up and out.

“Where’s Jane going?” Virginia asked in concern a minute later, the servers in her suit whining softly as she moved to stand by Kayo on top of the rubble.

“She needed a trip to the ladies room,” Kayo said with a little smile.

The servos went quiet.   There was a pause.   Virginia’s bark of laughter echoed down the slope to where the ships stood.

Jane glanced up, one hand over her belly.  She extended the other, middle finger raised, and ducked into Two.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia knows when Jane needs a cuddle

Georgia had elevated being obnoxious into an art form.

“Janey.  Janey, Janey-Jane, stop being a nerd and come watch cartoons with me,” she whined, to no response.  Jane continued to pace, eyes fixed on her tablet.

Georgia folded her arms on the back of the couch and rested her chin on her arms, face at main floor level.  Only her eyes moved as Jane paced, mouthing silently to herself as she prepared her keynote remarks.  It had been a long time since she’d last seen Jane this wound up.

“You look stressed,” Georgia announced at last as Jane finished another orbit back to dad’s desk.

Jane rolled her eyes, pulled a stylus out of her messy bun and made a note on her file.  “Really,” she almost snarled through gritted teeth.  “Can’t think why.”

Georgia let her head loll as Jane resumed her pacing.  “You’ve got this, Janey-wany,” she sang, her head rocking from left to right on the beat.  “You are, and this pains me to say, the world expert on AI integration.  You’ve got this, girl, so come watch cartoons with me.”

Jane exhaled, hard and irritated.  “Don’t you have some fish to annoy?”

Georgia rolled onto her back, her shoulders pressed into the tops of the cushions, her entire body arched above the seat, her entire weight balanced between her shoulders and her tip-toes.  She held the ridiculous balancing act for only a second before gravity and friction had her slithering down into the pit.  She popped up like a cork a moment later.  “You’re a grumpy-puss, Janey.  And you know the cure for grumps.”

Jane didn’t even look up as she jabbed the stylus in Georgia’s general direction.  “No.”

“Yes,” Georgia replied, eyes dancing as she flexed and dropped into a runner’s start.

Jane turned away, shaking her head.  The movement knocked more tendrils of copper red hair loose.  “I don’t have time to play games, Georgia.”

“Not playing.” Georgia grinned and pounced.

Jane nearly toppled over as Georgia’s weight slammed into her; her tablet clattered loudly on dad’s desk as Jane dropped it in favour of grabbing onto the table’s edge with both hands to stop them from crashing to the ground.

Georgia took the momentary distraction to tighten her grip around Jane’s waist.  She always smelled faintly of ozone now, of computers and recycled air.

She remembered when Jane smelled of old books and sunshine, and she had to turn to bury her face in Jane’s old, oversized cardigan.  Georgia suspected it was a Grandma hand-me-down; nose pressed into the fabric, she could just catch the faintest scent of lilac.

“Georgia,” Jane said, disapproval and warning all in one.  But she didn’t try to shrug Georgia off.

Georgia tightened her hug, rubbing her cheek against Jane’s flank.  “Your talk is going to be great,” she murmured.  “I will deny ever saying this, but you’re probably, like, the smartest person on or off this planet, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a jerk.”

Only because she was plastered against Jane’s sigh did she feel the tiniest twitch and sigh of muscles relaxing.  “Going with plausible deniability, huh?”

Georgia grinned and nuzzled her gently.  “Worked for me so far.”

Jane’s shoulders, which had been hunched up somewhere around her ears ever since she came back earthside, eased down a little.  “I cited every other speaker in my thesis.  And now I’m sharing a stage with them.  Oh god, a stage….”  Jane’s head sagged, her arms braced on the table taking the weight.

Georgia flowed with the motion, like a surfer on a wave.  “Just picture them in their underwear?” she suggested.  She’d got over any sense of stage fright years ago.

Jane laughed softly, the movement a murmured vibration against Georgia’s skin.  “Have you ever seen your standard order computer scientist?”

“Okay,” Georgia conceded. “Maybe not naked.  Clown suit?”  Jane laughed again, and Georgia swung them back upright, pivoting on their hips to haul Jane over to flop against her.  Jane’s arms wound of their own accord against Georgia.  “Or just realize that you now know more than them, and you’re kind of a badass when you show it?”

Jane had inches on Georgia that would never be closed except like this, when Jane folded herself up enough to rest her chin on Georgia’s shoulder.  “Is that also under plausible deniability?”

Georgia let Jane rest there.  “Nah, everyone knows it, be silly to pretend otherwise.”

Finally, too soon, Jane straightened back up. Georgia let her go, her fingers skating over Jane’s flanks as they slowly pulled apart.  “Thanks, Georgia.”

Georgia gently chucked her fist against Jane’s chin.  “You got this, kiddo. Knock ‘em dead.”

Jane glanced over at her tablet, resting where she had dropped it on dad’s desk.  Jane sighed and reached up to tug her hair out of it’s bun.  “Cartoons?”

Georgia nodded and jumped over the edge back onto the couch.  “What are you in the mood for?”

Jane descended slowly, but out of the entire ring, she took the seat next to Georgia.  “Classics?”

“They are for a reason,” Georgia agreed, sprawling out and waving in the screen.

If Jane laid back, her head on Georgia’s shoulder, their legs tangled together, well, Georgia thought, no-one had to know.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny always knows she can find Jane where the party isn’t

“You need a cigarette.”

Jane looked up as Penny stepped carefully over the loose drifts of snow to the tiny shelter in the corner between two wings of the old house. “A cigarette?”

Penny had her arms wrapped tightly around her, already shivering in the cold air.  “To complete the brooding look.”

Even in the dark, it was impossible to miss Jane’s eyeroll.  “I’ll pass.  Why are you out here, and without a coat at that?”

Penny shrugged.  In the distance, there was the sound of over-loud laughter, the tinkle of fine crystal and the gentle white noise of the string quartet.  “I couldn’t find you.  So I thought, in this party, where would I find Jane.”  She untucked one hand enough to wave at the corner.  “And _tada_ , I was right.”

Jane chuckled without humour.  “Well, the library was full of people making out with other people, so that only left me with Option B.”  There was no rancour, but a tiny thread of bitterness wove between her words.

Penny pushed in between Jane and the right angle of brickwork, trying to find a spot out of the bitingly cold wind.  “How dare they take the wallflower’s spot,” she agreed, already hearing the shivering in her own voice.

Jane gently nudged her with her elbow.  “Don’t mock.”

Penny pressed against Jane’s arm, huddling in closer when Jane didn’t immediately knock her away.  She and Jane had been something that approximated best friends for nearly half their lives now, she knew Jane’s warning signs.  “Fine, no mocking.”  Jane had at least pulled a wrap around her shoulders before stepping outside, and Penny calculated the odds of being able to steal it.  “Too loud?”

Jane nodded, a curt little bob of her chin.  “The clouds have mostly blown over,” she added, tipping her head back.  “Look how bright the stars are.”

The mountain air was thin even at this elevation, cold and crisp, and every star sparkled like diamonds.  “Father has a chalet, further up the mountain,” Penny offered,  “We could go up tomorrow with your telescope?”

Even this close, in the low light, Penny almost missed the way Jane screwed her eyes shut.  “That’s above the snow line, isn’t it?”

Penny winced, and silently cursed herself for forgetting.  “Yes.”

“Then no.  But thank you.”

Penny squeezed Jane’s arm in silent apology.  “I also know of a beach house.  Isolated, no light pollution, and its owner owes me a favour.”

Jane’s huff of laughter sent out little puffs in the cold air.  “Dad said, and I quote, that if I blew off one more company party, I’d be scrubbing the nearest factory floor with my toothbrush before the day was out.”  Jane’s impression of her father was nothing like Virginia’s, but it got the point across.  

“Well then,” Penny said, giving up on subtle and tugging on the edge of Jane’s wrap until she had it stretched over her own shoulders.  “I guess we’re just staying here then.”

“You’ll freeze to death inside of ten minutes,” Jane pointed out.

“So set your clock for nine minutes and fifty seconds,” Penny replied easily, wrapping her arms around Jane’s, leeching her warmth.  “Then we’ll go find somewhere quiet that’s also go central heating.”

Jane sighed.  “Nine minutes then.”

They fell silent, both heads tipped back as they watched the stars.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia wears her scars like a badge of honour – she was still in (mostly) one piece

Georgia wondered if Scarlet thought she didn’t notice the sideways glances and covert checks, the way Scar’s lips pursed and thinned every time Georgia wore her scars with pride.

But Georgia noticed; she told herself she just didn’t care.

Strangers were usually more blatant, their eyes widening as they took in the seams that held the patchwork girl together.  The boldest asked, and Georgia had a dozen stories she kept in rotation – sharks featured in several, and all had the room roaring with laughter before she was done.

But if she was tired, or in a hurry, or didn’t care for the bloodthirstiness in their eyes, she’d just smile and shrug and say “you should see the other guys,” and watch the curious back away.

None of that would work on Scarlet, who had been there every day of recovery, who had wheeled Georgia to appointments and helped her back up when she fell, and who fetched and carried for the months it took for Georgia to start to knit back together.

Scarlet had held her when she’d cried and screamed and pleaded for the right just to curl up there and then and die like they had expected her to.  Scarlet had rocked her gently, mindful of every place it hurt, and murmured soothingly, encouraging, into her straggly, regrowing hair.  Scarlet had snuck her a tiny bottle of champagne to celebrate the first time Georgia had made it the length of the hall under her own power.

The sun is shining now, a million miles from that antiseptic room.  The waves are crashing onto the rocky shore of the island with a deep echoing boom like a giant’s heartbeat, calling Georgia down.

Scarlet had been glancing sideways the entire walk from the house to the small beach.  Georgia dumped her stuff on her favourite rock, and rummaged through her bag for a moment.  She could feel Scarlet’s eyes on her, tracking the curve of her spine.

Georgia turned and tossed Scarlet a large tube.  “Hey, put some sunscreen on my back?”

Georgia guessed that Scarlet knew Georgia’s play, but Scar wordlessly accepted her task, getting Georgia to spin around with a gesture.  The cream was cool on Georgia’s skin, and they could both smell the scent of the sunscreen Georgia was already wearing as it mingled and merged with the fresh layer.

But Scarlet still needed to check the seams were holding, that Georgia wasn’t in danger of falling apart again.  And Georgia, despite herself and after everything, couldn’t begrudge her the need to be sure.  “Done?” she asked over her shoulder as Scarlet’s now-greasy fingers slid down Georgia’s bare arms and off.

“All good,” Scarlet said, and her brightness wasn’t forced.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet is melodramatic when she’s feeling unwell

Virginia kicked the lump of pillows and blankets on the couch and nodded to herself at the long, low, animal noise that replied.  “Sign of life,” she called out to the others as she headed for the kitchen.  “We’re good.”

“Not good.  Dying.”  Scarlet moaned the last word, dragging it out for several syllables.  There was a brief flurry of movement, and the top layer of covers were flung back to reveal Scarlet.  “I’d say I’m dead, but dead people don’t feel pain,” she added, eyes closed, skin still pale and sweaty.

Georgia appeared above her, crouching to look down at the lump of the couch with an expert eye.  “Here,” she said, passing her one of Allie’s capri sun pouches.  “See if you can keep this down.”

“Hey!” Allie protested from across the room.  “Those are mine.”

“Please, Allie,” Scarlet whimpered, making an abortive grab at the silvery pouch Georgia was dangling.

Allie snorted.  “Oh, ok, that was pathetic.  Don’t be a dick, Georgia, give it to her.”

Scarlet fumbled with the straw until Georgia took pity and did it for her.  “Allie’s right,” she said, handing it over.  She watched, nonplussed, at the way Scarlet all but inhaled the contents.  “Pathetic.  Slow down,” she added.  “Unless you want to relapse.”

Scarlet pouted.  “No sympathy from my dear, dear sisters?” 

Virginia reappeared, shoveling cereal from a bowl to her mouth.  “Self-inflicted, so, no.“ She raised an eyebrow.  “And remember the last time Jane was sick, and you told her you had no sympathy…”

“ Jane just needed to get her land-legs back,” Scarlet protested weakly.  “ I was poisoned.”

“You ate the prawn vol-a-vents,” Virginia corrected calmly.  “What’s the rule?”

“No buffet seafood,” Allie and Georgia chorused.

“Exactly,” Virginia said with a firm nod as she dropped down onto the seat directly opposite her sister.  “At least you’ve stopped puking.”

Scarlet held up a warning finger.  “Please don’t remind me, I’m pretty sure I’ve still got bile in my hair.”

The spoon clattered in the bowl.  “Thanks, Scar,” Virginia said with a distasteful moue as she put the bowl onto the table.  “Appreciate the overshare.”

Scarlet flipped her off.  “Next time I’ll puke in your shoes.”

“You puked on mine,” Georgia said, far too cheerful given the subject matter.  “And yes, you will be taking me shoe shopping once you can stand.”

Scarlet groaned and pulled the covers back over her head.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took Virginia too long to understand why Brains never argued back

Brains didn’t yell, or slam doors, or get passive aggressive when they argued.  He withdrew, going silent, carefully closing the doors as he hid away from Virginia.

It used to drive her insane.

Virginia was the middle child; she was used to slamming and yelling, the sound of heavy feet running as each aggrieved party raced to get the most number of sisters onto _her_  side before the other.

It was Kayo of all people who explained it to her, all hypothetical situations and well-distanced examples, her words quiet and carefully chosen as she sat by a Virginia who was still seething with unexploded emotions after their latest non-fight.

When Virginia put together what wasn’t being said, Kayo had held her hair as she retched, then held her tight as she shook and rocked and cried, heart breaking over and over again.

Virginia had been a child still when the Global Conflict had ended.  Though it was truly global, there had been safe places, and their parents had rotated their daughters through them all so smoothly the girls never noticed the chaos beyond their walls.

Brains had been orphaned early; there had been no safe places where he was.  He never spoke of what he had to do to survive, to climb his way up and out.

Virginia’s imagination filled in gaps, extrapolations based on the way Brains flinched from unexpected noises, the way he vanished when Georgia and Allie’s rough-housing got vicious, the way he ate quickly, and preferably by himself, the way he always made sure his pocket knife was tucked away before he headed out to start his day.

The way he never argued back directly with her; he always conceded, always withdrew before the anger could explode.

But their fights were getting more frequent, the issues lying unresolved until they rose up again and again and again.  Virginia had to fight two decades worth of instincts that said she needed to shout to be heard, but that still left her alone again and again as Brains over and over made his escape.

Paper wasn’t common, but Virginia had a small stash – still-blank art folios waiting for inspiration, some old-fashioned notebooks, a deck of stationary paper that may have been her mother’s, she wasn’t sure anymore.

Each page was pale pink, a curlicue of a flower design in the corner, not the kind of thing Virginia would usually choose for herself.

But she found herself reaching for it.  She wrote her feelings, squashing the words onto the tiny page as she made her case as to why she was upset.  As an afterthought, she fetched her lipstick from the barely-used case in her wardrobe, pressing a bold kiss to the folded edge.

MAX whirled happily to see her, let her put the letter, a blank page, and a pen in his carapace.

A note slid under her door two hours later.  Virginia smiled into her fist at the oil-smeared thumbprint over the fold.

Brains had his own stack of paper now, his half of the deck.  Virginia didn’t know where he kept it; that was between him and MAX.

They both retreat now, a mutual withdrawal when the emotions bubble over, carefully closing doors behind them. But sometimes Brains writes the first letter now, writing out in carefully shaped letters what he is actually feeling without waiting for Virginia to make the initial move.

When they come back together, somewhere quiet where they won’t be disturbed, they spread the letters out before them.  Sometimes he rests his head on her lap, sometimes its the other way around.  And sometimes, they just sit, pressed into each others’ sides as they cuddle together and speak softly of resolutions.

They don’t argue much anymore.  But when they do, they are both unafraid.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia tells Grandma about Penny

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Ruth said, finally taking pity on Georgia after watching her pace and flail and restart herself a dozen times over. _Penny_  had been said in every attempt, and Ruth had been paying enough attention to her grand-daughter to see where this was headed.  “I know.”

Georgia flopped down next to her like her strings had been cut.  “Really?” she asked, too young and quiet for Ruth’s liking.

She reached out and tucked Georgia under her arm.  “You and Penny are finally a thing now, right?”

Georgia nodded, mute as a child.

Ruth gently jostled her.  “Nice,” she said approvingly, laughing at Georgia’s scandalized noise.  “Come on, kiddo, you’ve gotta admit, she’s kinda out of your league.”

Georgia sighed happily and slumped against her grandmother.  “She’s out of this _world._ ”

Ruth remembered that heady first rush of new love, and she kissed Georgia’s head.  “She’s a lady, you’ve got to treat as such.”  Georgia snorted, and Ruth squeezed her in gentle rebuke.  “Not a Lady kind of lady.  I mean if she’s special, you’ve got to let her know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Georgia admitted softly.  “I’m… well, I’m just kinda scared I’m going to screw this up,” she admitted in a rush.

Ruth tucked her in closer.  “That means it’s real.  Even if you screw it up, or it doesn’t work out, you can know that right here and now, it was real.”

“Way to go on the pep talk there, grandma,” Georgia moaned, turning her face into Ruth’s shoulder.

Ruth laughed.  “I’m here for hard truths and hugs, kiddo.”  That pulled another little laugh out of Georgia.  “For what it’s worth, I saw her, last time she was here.  She was looking at you like you were pole star and she was lost at sea.”  She met Georgia’s wide eyes as her head came up to stare at her grandmother.  Ruth tweaked Georgia’s nose, just like she did when the girls were babies.  “Like you were the way _home_.”

Georgia’s smile was a sunrise, slow and brilliant.  “Thanks, grandma.”

Ruth nodded at the door.  “Go get your girl, treat her right.”

Georgia pecked a kiss before she was racing out.

Ruth waited until she heard the noise of footsteps die away, and then she reached for the frame on her bedside table.  “Miss you,” she said to the face in the picture.  “But I think you’d like Penny.  She’ll be good for our girl.”

Ruth let herself take a minute.  Then she briskly wiped her eyes and went to find Scarlet.  

She was next on Ruth’s little mental list.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia stands on the counter to feel tall

Scarlet walked into the kitchen and stopped dead.  “Why is Georgia standing on the counter?” she whispered sideways to where Virginia was calmly eating a bagel and reading a book.

“It makes her feel tall,” Virginia replied, apparently completely unconcerned by the poses Georgia was striking.

Scarlet considered this for a moment.  “And why does Georgia want to feel tall?” she asked carefully, like she was probing a bruise.

Virgina took a bite of her bagel, chewing it thoughtfully for a moment.  “I suppose the _core_  reason is because Jane told her she had no idea what it was like six feet off the ground.” 

“And why did Jane say that?” Scarlet persisted with infinite patience.

Virginia shrugged and popped the last bite in her mouth.  “I just came in mid-argument, and I realized, I didn’t really want to know.”

Scarlet rattled her fingers on the tabletop, a rapid-fire tattoo.  “Does she knows she probably ten feet off the ground up there?”

“I do!” Georgia cut in, changing her pose into something like a bodybuilder’s preen.  “And ten beats her stupid six.  Stupid tall nerd.”

Scarlet closed her eyes for a brief moment, rubbing the bridge of her nose.  Today was supposed to be easy.  “Ok, your height trumps her height,” she agreed soothingly, her ‘talking the victim off the ledge’ voice. “But why the poses?”

Georgia put her hands on her hips and grinned sunnily.  “Jane’s always bragging about how good Five’s sensors are, what they can see.  I want her to see my awesome all the way from _space_.”  Georgia twisted into another pose, arm extended to flip the bird all the way to orbit.

Scarlet gave up and left.  No cup of coffee was worth trying to understand Georgia on days like these.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colonel Casey usually deals with Scarlet, not Virginia

She mostly deals with Scarlet now, though the other girls are constants of the scenery everytime IR is called out.

Back when she was Captain Casey, it was Jeff she was dealing with, and the girls were exactly that, schoolgirls concerned about homework and exams and sports practice.  She misses those days, sometimes.

Everything was simpler back then, or maybe memory is just rose-tinted at her age.

Today, TB1 is conspicuous by her absence, and it’s Virginia jogging over, an easy stride that eats up the distance.

Virginia has inches on her, and kitted out in her full rig, she just takes up space with a kind of solidity that doesn’t feel like looming, but which still makes everything feel a bit closer together, a little more cramped than before.  “Colonel,” Virginia greets her, an easy nod, equal to equal.  

“Virginia,” she returns carefully.  “Scarlet on another call?”  She thought she’d know, but IR were getting more busy with each passing year.

“Something like that.”  Virginia grins, an easy shrug, and Casey remembers the girl in the school uniform she had first met, swinging her legs through the air as she waits for her father’s meeting to be done.  They were going for ice cream, Jeff had confided to her as the other stakeholders in this venture had filed out.  A reward for winning a music prize.

She wonders if Virginia still plays, or if rescues and engineering and the damage demolition does to the fingertips had ended her music.  There’s still the faint scent of det cord in the air, a reminder as to why Virginia is here.  “Colonel?”  Virginia asks, tilting her head to bring their gazes into a lock.

Casey straightened her already-straight spine.  “Good work today, Virginia,” she says, watching the faint blush of praise on Virginia’s cheeks.  Scarlet took praise as a hurdle to clear the next time, and who knew what Jane did with kind words.

Virginia was still young enough to blush, her gloved hand coming up to scratch the back of her head.  The gesture musses up already messy hair.  “Uh, you’re welcome?”

Casey couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d tried.  She reached up and laid a hand on Virginia’s head, smoothing down the flyaway strands under her palm, letting her hand drop to Virginia’s shoulder, the one without the highbeam rig.

The close, Virginia looks startled at the contact.  She also looks too tired, fine lines and deep shadows ringing her eyes.  “We’ve got it from here.  Head home.”

Virginia didn’t move from her spot.  Colonel Casey walked on, already thumbing open her comm to give her team orders for the clean up.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia’s bedside manner involved wearing socks on her hands

Virginia ached, the pain centred on her chest and radiating out to every extremity.  Every breath was a struggle, fire burning between her ribs, and her arm itched where the IV had recently been pulled.

Painkillers and rest were her prescription – the diagnosis of pleursy, a straight up viral infection, meant that she didn’t need the line anymore.  She’d probably caught it at the last rescue, and Virginia knew that Scarlet was working on a lecture about cutting corners with protocol.  But the disaster had kept growing, and even Two’s massive supply stock had run low.  Virginia had rolled the gamble on what were, she thought, low odds.

That she was here meant that she had lost.

She’d pulled the cannula out, let it drop onto her collarbone like a plastic necklace.  The way it had pinched at her nose had just been adding onto her growing irritation with herself, her situation, and the constant agony that each breath triggered.

She blinked, slow and exhausted, and between one moment and the next, Georgia was at her bedside.  Virginia looked up at her, trying to remember how she had got there.

Georgia was fine when she was working, but when her hands weren’t busy, she tended to avoid the medical suite on the island.  It was the smell, she’d confided once, when they’d split half a bottle late one night.  If she wasn’t working, if her mind wasn’t busy and occupied, the smell just got to her.  

Georgia smiled at her, quick and tight.  Her hands were stuffed in the joey pocket of her hoodie, her shoulders tensing up around her ears.  “And how’s the patient?” she asked pleasantly enough.

Virginia didn’t trust her voice; words hurt, she knew from painful experience.  She settled for sticking out her tongue.

“Ew, save that for Brains,” Georgia said, wrinkling her nose.  “But seriously, apart from the whole viral infection, everything hurts, you doing okay?  You should be sleeping.”

“Sore,” Virginia said, less a word and more a movement of her lips.  “Hot.”

She’d been almost-silent to her own ears, but she and Georgia had worked together too long, too close, to miss each others cues.  “They have got you pretty mummified here, haven’t they,” Georgia said, her shoulders dropping down as she reached over to untuck the blanket.  She walked the length of the bed, flapping the covers, letting a little air circulate.  “Oh, here,” she added, disappearing from view.

Virginia felt Georgia tweak her toes, and she flexed her foot in warning.  Georgia chuckled to herself even as she tugged off one, then the other, sock.

Virginia tried not to sigh, wary of any motion of her chest.  But the feel of cool air around her toes was wonderful, and she let herself relax in relief.

“You know,” Georgia said in a high, squeaky voice.  Virginia looked up, her eyes widening as she took in Georgia’s sock-clad hands.  “What would make the patient feel _even better_ , Mr Sock?”

The other hand bobbed up and down.  “I do, Mrs Sock.“

The pair nodded to each other almost officiously.  “Oxygen!” Georgia crowed in a high voice, making both her puppets speak at once.

Virginia tried not to laugh, even as she obediently tugged her cannula back into place.  The gentle flow of oxygen tasted cool as it passed over her throat.  “There,” Georgia squeaked, pecking at her arm with one sock-covered hand.  “Isn’t that better?”

Virginia extended her middle finger in reply. Georgia shrugged, and snapped out her hand. The sock’s mouth closed over Virginia’s finger.  “Om nom nom,” Georgia squeaked.

Virginia’s little laugh turned into an aborted cough, and she moaned in pain.

Georgia’s hand was warm on her temple, and smelled faintly of socks.  “Slow and shallow, there you go,” she murmured.  Her other hand caught Virginia’s.

Virginia felt the strength of Georgia’s hand through the rough material and held on tightly until the pain subsided.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny and Georgia flirting

Penny was getting used to the fact that their new normal came with certain _perks_.

She ignored the way Parker sighed, put upon and mildly amused, as her comm chimed again.  “Why doesn’t she just pick up the blessed thing and _call_ , m’lady?” he asked.

“Oh Parker,” Penny teased, her cheeks already pre-emptively blushing.  “Now where’s the fun in that?”

This text message was a little more cryptic than the other.   _Thank goodness my suit has full gloves._

Penny frowned, suddenly concerned.   _Why?  Did something happen?_  she messaged back.

The reply came back so quickly Georgia must have been typing it even as Penny was responding.   _Because you’re too hot to handle_.

Penny groaned, ignoring the eyeroll visible in the driver’s mirror.  But two could play at this game.   _On a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight?_

Georgia’s reply was just an alternating series of US flags and what, after a moment’s careful consideration, Penny realized were eagle emojis.  A follow up text appeared a moment later.   _I have twelve hours downtime and I make a mean grilled cheese_.

Penny bit down her smile.   _I’ve always thought grilled cheese was an excellent breakfast food_.

There was a long pause before the next message appeared on her screen.   _Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, was that a booty call?_

Penny flipped through the emoji menu until she found the skull and crossbones flag and filled the text field with them.

Two seconds later, her phone rang.  “Hello darling,” she answered, biting her lip to keep her voice steady.  “Did you get my message?”

Georgia was giggling audibly.  “Arrgh,” she said in a passable pirate’s drawl.  “Call me a pirate and gimme the booty.”

Penny snickered despite herself.  “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” Georgia shot back sunnily.  “Scarlet has an appointment with the GDF in Geneva tonight, she said she’d give me a lift.  I can be there in an hour.”

“You promised me grilled cheese,” Penny reminded her.  

“Stealing supplies as we speak.”

Penny laughed, light-hearted and _happy_.  “Spoken like a true pirate.”

“ARRGH,” Georgia crowed down the line, breaking into a laugh as Penny giggled.  “Oh, Scarlet’s getting impatient.  See ya soon, sweetheart.”

Penny was still smiling as she closed out the call and relaxed against the plush leather seat.  “Home, m’lady?” Parker asked.

“Home,” Penny agreed.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff Tracy is proud of his daughters. Jeff Tracy is worried for his daughters.

Jeff Tracy loves his daughters fiercely, proudly.  Each of his girls is special, and unique, and so brilliant Jeff is worried the world won’t know what hit it.

But most of the time, Jeff is worried how the world will hit _them_.

 * * *

Scarlet is his first, and Lucy used to joke that she’d presented him with a mini-me.  “She even scowls the same way you do,” she’d joke, bouncing the baby in her arms.

There were cigars, and congratulations, and then Jeff was back to work with renewed vigor.

He wanted to make something that his baby girl would be proud of.

 * * *

Jane is like her sister only in the small private ways that count the most.  To everyone else, she’s too quiet, watches too closely, focuses too intently.  The polite back away with comments of how intelligent she is, and so young.  Those less well-mannered just back away.

His little Janie just reminds him of his own father, and grandfather and granddaughter get along famously without ever speaking a word.

Every day, every too-advanced book read, every milestone achieved too-early, Jeff’s worry continues to grow.

 * * *

When Virginia comes, so do the whispers.  Jeff was taught in school that sexism was dead; watching the world watch his daughters teaches him a more complex lesson.  The company’s bigger now, more partners, more interweaving relationships predicated as much on handshakes and cocktails as they are on formal deals and written contracts.

In that world, one daughter is charming.  Two daughters are sweet.  Three daughters are the subject of whispers.

But Virginia is her own girl right from the start, clear in her own demands, placid in her acceptance of her family’s affection.  Every night, late and exhausted, it would be her crib he’d stop at first, stroking her downy head just to get a sweet, uncomplicated smile.

 * * *

Jeff swears they didn’t mean to name their daughters after states.  But by the time it was pointed out to him, an awkward joke made by an uncomfortable visitor to his office who had sought refuge in admiring the family photographs, it was too late.  Georgia was Georgia, and that was what it was.

Jeff always wondered if he owed her an apology.  He wondered if it even mattered.

 * * *

Jeff knew about the whispers, knew everyone thought he and Luce were trying for a boy.

In truth, they weren’t _trying_  for anything.  Allie was a surprise, starting out as she meant to continue, always on her own schedule.  “Well, that was dramatic,” Lucy said, exhausted and smiling, propped up on pillows, her eyes never drifting from the bundle in Jeff’s arms.

“Understatement,” Jeff replied drolly, just to hear her laugh.  “Welcome to the world, Speedy.  Though you didn’t have to rush, kiddo,” he added, leaning in to gently rub the tip of his nose over the curve of her cheek, inhaling that new baby smell.

 * * *

Five kids, two grandparents, an exhausted wife, and a multinational in a pear tree.  Jeff collapsed to his knees in front of the blinking lights of the Christmas tree, and shook a red-wrapped box.

“Jeff,” his mother scolded, shoving hard at his shoulder.  “You’re worse than Scarlet.”  She took the present from him, her eyes critical on his face.  “You also look terrible.  Your father and I can play Santa tonight, go keep your wife company.”

Jeff let himself be shoo-ed upstairs, but instead of turning right, towards the master bedroom, he turned left.  Four doors, two to each side.  Allie was still in her crib in their room.  The room behind the fifth door at the end was nearing completion, and Jeff didn’t know how he felt to be moving his final baby girl into a room of her own.

He turned to open Georgia’s room, the first in the row.  His heart seized at the sight of her empty bed.

Moving quickly, he crossed the hall. Virginia’s door thumped against the wall as he shoved it open in his haste.  Her sheets were tossed back, his daughter gone.

Jane’s empty bed was awash in the soft glow of the stars they had so carefully mapped onto the ceiling, the sheets carefully folded back.

Heart in his mouth, Jeff barged into Scarlet’s room and froze.

His missing daughters were piled onto Scarlet’s bed. Allie was draped over the foot of the bed, her mouth hanging open as her head dangled off the side in her boneless sprawl.  Georgia was curled into a ball, her head pressed into Allie’s side, her arm thrown over Virginia’s knee.

Virginia was precariously balanced along the edge of the mattress, one arm draped over the edge, her fingertips already almost reaching to the floor, her face turned into Scarlet’s hip.  Stepping closer, Jeff found Jane on Scarlet’s other side, sharing her eldest sister’s pillow.  

Between the two oldest girls, their mother’s dogeared and worn copy of _Alice In Wonderland_  lay open to show an illustration of the Cheshire Cat slowly fading into nothingness.

Barely breathing, Jeff tiptoed closer.  The movement was enough to rouse Scarlet, one sleepy eye cracking open.

Jeff _shh-ed_  her softly, gently stroking her forehead, brushing back the wisps of dark hair.  “Okay, little Red?” he asked.

She nodded, already mostly asleep again.

Jeff rescued the book, placing it gently on the bedside table.  Allie could be coaxed even asleep, and he gently eased her fully back onto the bed.  Virginia didn’t stir as Jeff draped her arm back over her belly; she just snuffled and turned more fully into Scarlet’s side.

Jeff watched carefully, counting Jane’s breathes for a full minute, letting his own breathing slow.  A kiss to every forehead, and he gently withdrew.

Lucy was waiting in the corridor for him, her robe loosely draped over her shoulders.  “Are you getting clucky again, Jeff Tracy?” she asked, reaching for him.

Jeff took her hand, squeezing her fingers.  “What would you say if I was?”

She snorted.  “I’d say it’s high time for you to do the giving birth part.”

Jeff laughed softly, mindful of the sleepers behind him, and lovingly led Lucy back to their room.

 * * *

Twenty four hours.

Jeff’s mind kept blanking reminding him, a mental clock winding back and forth, locked on a single day.

The plan seemed straight-forward – Lucy, mom and dad head up on the Friday, clean out the chalet, the work easier without five boisterous, growing girls underfoot. Jeff and the girls to follow them up twenty four hours later, free of school and work, ready to start their family holiday.  A long weekend together, their sprawling family enjoying the fresh powder, and then back down to return to work and school and their normal life.

There was no normal now.  Or rather, this was the normal now.

Jane had gotten quiet and sad in week leading up to their departure, and her grandfather, always a soft touch for the only other redhead in their family, had changed the plan to include her in the party going up on Friday.

 _She’ll enjoy it_ , his dad had said.   _And she’ll make herself useful, you know how Janie is.  Let her come, son._

Jeff buried his nose in Jane’s silky red hair and wondered when the tears would come – his or hers, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Twenty four hours ago, he had a wife, and a father.

A twist of fate had saved his mother and his daughter, and Jeff had never fully trusted fate.  It had been too close, and losing Jane too would have been one wound too many to bear.

His arms were locked around Jane, had been since he’d rushed onto the scene, but no-one tried to separate them.  Virginia was behind him, leaning onto his back, a scarily-still weight.  Scarlet was off to one side, staring out the window.  Jeff could hear his mother crying softly upstairs in the hastily rented house in the village.  Searchers came by on the hour, reporting no new updates.

Outside the window, snow continued to fall.

“Allie, no.”

Scarlet’s voice snapped Jeff back to the present.  Allie was hiding behind Georgia’s legs, the pair of them creeping closer, though they had frozen on the spot at Scarlet’s word of command.

Jeff reached out of them, and they burst back into motion, barreling into him.  “Daddy, where’s mommy?” Georgia asked.

Jane suddenly pulled against his other arm, like she was trying to run away. “Janie?” Allie asked, eyes wide, reaching for her favourite sister.

Jane _collapsed_ , like the steel in her spine had melted all at once.  Jeff was expecting sobs, but Jane cried silently, her entire body convulsing with it.

Jeff broke; his heart shattering again in fresh agony as he felt his daughters grief slam into him.  Scarlet had come over, almost tentative, and Jeff reached out, stretching his arms around all his girls.  Scarlet’s cheeks were glistening in the low light, and Allie’s bottom lip was quivering as she picked up on the pain her sisters were feeling, still too young to understand what she had lost.

“I’ve got you, girls.  I’m here,” he choked out and all the dams burst.

 * * *

They were still a family, but the fractures and the scars the avalanche had left on all of them reshaped them all in strange ways.

Allie got faster, louder, _more,_ and Jeff struggled to find the counterbalance she needed.

Georgia flew high and crashed hard, and Jeff wanted to save her from the world, even though he knew that was the last thing she wanted.

Virginia was calm like a lake, with depths that would drag the unwary under.  Jeff learned to listen to the notes, training himself to hear in the way her fingers rested on the keys what she was really feeling.

Jane scared him sometimes; or rather, he tried to convince himself, he was scared _for_ her.  Dad had always know how to reach her; but dad was gone with Lucy, and Jeff felt the tether between him and her continue to stretch and weaken.

If Jane scared him, Scarlet worried him – both his eldest took on too much, pushed too hard, flew too high, but Scarlet pushed herself with one eye on him.  Jeff wanted to shake her, order her to do things the way _Scarlet Tracy_  would, not the way she thought he might want.

Jane and Scarlet are the first home, the university calendar letting out days before the boarding schools did.  They’re sitting on the sofa now, bowed heads just visible from his desk, redhead and brunette leaning into each other as they spoke too quietly for him to hear.

Jeff had grieved quietly when they had stopped turning to him and started turning to each other, but he was grateful they had each other.  He pushed back from his desk, snagging a bottle and three heavy crystal tumblers from the bar as he passed.

Their heads snapped up as he set them on the table, a matched and mirrored movement.  Jeff ignored their confused glances and poured out three stiff measures.  He picked up one, nodded meaningfully at the other two.

The crystal made a deep, rich sound as he clinked his glass against theirs.  “I am so proud of you both,” he said, and hoped they understood all that he meant.

 * * *

The cockpit was filling with smoke, overwhelming his emergency air, making his eyes sting, making it hard to focus on any one of the thousand critical alarms blaring all around him.

Through the cracked windshield, Jeff saw the ocean racing up to meet him.  Jeff breathed an apology to his girls.  He’d told them that’d he be home in time for dinner.

But it looked like that, for the first time, he’d be breaking his promise.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virginia loves painting anything

When the _art_ wouldn’t come, Virginia wandered down to the hangar and hit the paint store.

These weren’t her delicate pots in every hue and shade.  These were industrial tins, sealed under the family logo, coloured by number

Virginia remembered taking inventory of them as a child, her father at wits end with what to do on a remote island with five hyperactive teenage girls all at each others throats.  She’d learned the paint codes by heart that summer, and now didn’t even need to think about it.

441 was submarine yellow, the yellow of the pods and of Thunderbird Four.  012 was a gunmetal grey, whereas 020 was the space-rated white.

Anything starting with a 6 was a primer, the next two numbers indicating purpose – 4′s for maritime, 2′s for out-of-atmosphere, 7′s for heat resistance.

9 was the experimental tag, their tins smaller than the gross quantities of the other colours, stacked by themselves against the far wall.

774 was her favourite – she’d picked it out before she’d even known what she was choosing.  There was a can on the dolly lifter already, and Virginia wheeled it out to Two’s hangar.  A quick detour, then she was back in her overalls and the respiratory kit. Brains would kill anyone else who didn’t observe proper health and safety, and even she would probably barely escape with a maiming if he caught her down here breathing in fumes.

He was cute when he ranted, but in the end, the worry it would cause him wasn’t worth the fumes headache.

The tin bulged and flexed as she popped the seal.  The paint inside was a swirl of dark shades, but a few seconds mixing had her beautiful Thunderbird green gleaming under the worklights.

There was a patch she’d noticed the other day, near the rear landing strut, looked like a spray of stone chip damage, probably from that hard takeoff near the volcano last week.

It wasn’t art in the sense of fine art, of painting shape and form.  But there was a pleasure in the discipline of proper ship painting technique.  You couldn’t just slap on a layer and call it done.  The surface had to be prepped, the right tools used, the correct stroke and brush weight every time, or else you had to strip it and start again.

When she was restless, and the art wouldn’t come, there was nothing better than losing herself in the rituals and care of her Bird.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff tries to protect his girls from words that wound

Whenever PR was waiting by his door, Jeff Tracy knew he was about to have a bad day.

PR had a rotating roster of senior staff, and Jeff had learned to predict the nature of the disaster by who they sent up.  Tim did internal drama made public, and Stacy covered economic fluctuations and market situations.  Soo Lin was their crash-and-tragedy specialist, and Vijay ran between TI and the government.

When it was Amanda, it was personal.

Jeff stopped ten feet away, aware that his support staff were watching covertly from their desks.  “Georgia?” he guessed.  He missed the days when she was too tired from training to get into trouble.

“Refreshingly, no.”  Amanda gestured at the closed door of the C-suite.  “Shall we?”

The doors close behind them, cutting off the sudden chatter of the office.  “Right, which one of my darling angels are you here to talk to me about now?”  He knew his tone was sharp, his voice cutting, but it had been a long day, and the way Amanda was clutching her tablet to her chest promised to make it longer.

Amanda had been with the company a long, _long_  time, and had seen Jeff in enough difficult situations that she was no longer impressed by the CEO accouterments that so flustered most visitors to his office.  “Please don’t talk about your daughters in public like that,” she sighed, taking the visitors chair without waiting for his invitation. “I’m having a hard enough time convincing the press that you haven’t gone all Rapunzel and have locked half of them up a tower somewhere.”

Jeff stripped off his coat and sank gratefully into his own seat.  “Weren’t you arguing just the other day that I should lo-jack Georgia so it would beep an alert whenever she was within a hundred meters of a party?”

Amanda laughed as she nodded.  “Yes, and I still advocate for that idea.  But, Jeff, the press can count, they know you have five daughters, yet they usually only see Georgia when she’s partying it up, or Scarlet when she’s your escort.  There are _serious_ conspiracy theories that you have Jane locked in a basement somewhere.”

Jeff chuckled even as he sat forward.  “Yes, the basement of this very building, in fact, and she was the one doing the locking.”  He folded his hands, his eye distracted for a moment by the glint of light off his wedding band.  “Wait, it’s Jane who’s causing you problems?”  He felt his brow furrow as he tried to picture any scenario where Jane’s actions would trigger a visit from PR.

Amanda thumbed on her tablet.  “Jane?  No, no more than that kind of gossip as usual, though at some point soon I am going downstairs and lasso-ing that girl into daylight to prove life.”  She glanced up, eyes narrowed at Jeff’s muttered _good luck with that_.  “I heard that.  But no, today’s topic of conversation is your eldest.”

That brought Jeff up short.  “Scar?  Wait, she’s off to the academy next month.  She’s getting ready for that, not out partying.”

Amanda studied her boss for a long moment.  “Jeff, I say this as a mother as well as your employee tasked with making sure small problems don’t become big problems.  I am here because this is going to look small, but in both those mindsets, my alarm bells are ringing.”  

Jeff bit his lip as Amanda flipped through some files on her tablet, then handed over the machine.  “Paparazzi filed that with the wire services this morning.  And let’s just say for now that I’m concerned.”

Jeff frowned. Scarlet was out in Colorado, visiting Virginia, helping her get settled in her freshman year before she headed off herself.  “What am I looking at here?”  He glanced at the photo again.  “Wait, the haircut?”

Amanda nodded.

Jeff rolled his eyes and handed her back the device.  “She was probably going to have to buzz it all for her military training anyway.  And colour washes out.”  He shrugged, steepling his fingers once more.  “She’s a young woman, Amanda, and her hair choices, as is anything else in her life, are her own.”  He laughed at himself.  “And trust me, the last thing they want is their fuddy duddy old man giving them fashion tips.”

Amanda wasn’t smiling.  “Do you know some of the captions being bandied about?”  She arched her hands through the air, like she was describing a marquee.  “Eldest Tracy Girl Breaks Under Strain, that’s quite popular, though Jeff Tracy Makes A Son Out Of His Daughter is also gaining ground.”

Jeff felt his eyes narrow.  “Careful, Amanda,” he warned, voice low and dangerous.

She shrugged, unafraid.  “I’m not writing it, Jeff, I’m just reporting it.”  She thumbed her tablet, reactivating the screen so she could study the picture once more.  “We’ve done this dance enough Jeff, you don’t need me to tell you that your girls are all held to impossible standards.”

Jeff shook his head almost plaintively.  “They’re never going to be the little ladies everyone wants them to be, Amanda.  You know my girls, you know that’s not how they’re wired.”

Amanda’s eyes were almost sad.  “I know.  But…”  she hesitated.

Jeff felt his blood freeze.  “Say it, Amanda.  Single father, five girls.  I remember the rumours about me wanting proper sons, and I heard all the gossip when their mother passed.”  He swallowed hard against the bile even the memory still raised.  “I’ve heard every vile word those vultures have tried to say about them.”

Amanda took the hits without flinching.  “And now they’re using the girls actions against you, casting you in the role of monster patriarch, forcing them to do your bidding rather than letting them be,” and here her voice changed into something mockingly sweet.  “The dear little feminine angels we all know they _really_ want to be.”

Jeff laughed loudly.  “Do you think I’m the monster patriarch?”

“Honestly?”  Amanda’s calm facade broke into a smile.  “I think they have you beaten five times over, and are each by themselves five times more stubborn than you are on your best day,” she agreed.  “But in my game, perception rules.  And they’re reading all manner of evil intent into Scarlet’s new look.”  

Jeff reached for the tablet again, and she handed it over without demur. Scarlet, for all the radical hairstyle and beat-up jacket, looked more relaxed than he had seen her in a while.  “Keep an eye on it,” he ordered.  “But like I said, she’s in training next month.  I won’t upset her about this, not now.”

“And if it does blow up in our faces before then?”  

Jeff handed her back her device.  “Then you and I will deal with it.  Let her have her holiday with her sister,” he added.

Amanda nodded and quietly bowed her way out of his office, closing the door behind him.

Jeff took a deep breath, turning his chair to face a nook not easily visible from the visitors side of the desk.  He knew the scene by heart, his eyes automatically finding Scarlet’s pictures in the forest of framed photographs, each snap a moment in time between her birth and now.

He let his eye linger on her smiles for a moment before he turned back to his work.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not really about the dress right now

Jane usually was, if not compliant, than acutely aware of the greater good.  But when she dug her heels in, it was as if she turned into a mountain.  “No.”

Scarlet wanted to facepalm, or at least rub the tension away from the bridge of her nose, but her makeup was done, and if she smudged it, they’d probably find her corpse skewered with a curling brush in the morning.  “Janie?  Janie, darling sister, light of my life, favouritist among all my sisters?”

“Hey!” Allie called out from the dressing table.  Virginia just chuckled and yanked Allie’s chin back towards the mirror.

Scarlet ignored her.  “Please, do this thing for me.”

Jane had her arms crossed, her head turned away.  She wasn’t making eye contact, never a good sign.  “No,” she said mulishly.

Scarlet rolled her neck, feeling it click at the third vertebrae.  Her head felt slightly off balance, her hair pushed high and gelled into place just subtly changing her centre of balance.  “Jane,” Scarlet put her hands on her hips.  “Put on the damn dress?”

Jane shook her head, a small movement even as she turned her face to the carpet.  Scarlet let her hands drop, heard Virginia put down the brush.

Move closer or back up – that was always the question when Jane got like this.  It was better now that they were adults, but Jane still, very rarely, and only when she was truly exhausted, found too many people too close just too much, and it made Scarlet feel all screwed up every time.

She hated seeing any of her sisters in pain.

She glanced at Virginia, got a small nod of encouragement, and so she crept forward.  “ “One to ten?” she asked, a legacy from when they were young, and Jane needed to make clear how she was feeling without anything as crude as words.

“Eight,” Jane replied after a moment’s thought.  This close, the shadows around her eyes were obvious.

Scarlet winced despite herself; Jane hadn’t let herself get that bad since college.  “Headache too?” she asked, and got another small nod.  Those were the worst; Jane described it once like listening to a thousand badly tuned radios.  

But they needed a united front, needed to show that they had all the massive, competing demands of being Tracy’s all in hand.  They’d RSVP-ed for all five of them; the media had, literally, been alerted.  There was no backing out.

Would that be worse than them seeing Jane swaying on her feet, scowling and snappish, though?

“Option B.”  Scarlet’s head whipped around to stare at Georgia and Penny, standing together just inside the doorway.  Penny was holding a garment bag, that she draped over the bed that Jane was perched on.

Inside was a suit, crisp white and impeccably tailored.  Penny ran her hand over the material, smoothing out invisible creases.  “I know how much you hate the dresses.  I thought this might be more comfortable.”

Georgia waggled a box.  “It also means no high heels.”

Scarlet bit her lip, but it wasn’t her call.  “Janie?”

Jane’s lips were thin, but she nodded curtly and took the box from Georgia’s hands.

They put her in the centre of their group, Penny and Georgia by unspoken agreement sitting closest to the door as Parker whisked them to the red carpet.

As soon as he opened the door they were moving, waving gaily, calling out to familiar faces in the press corps, arm unmistakably in arm, making sure all eyes were on them.  Jane found herself pressed in close to Virginia, as Scarlet took on the second layer of defense, stepping up to the row of microphones and recorders thrust their way.

Jane pasted a smile on her face and tried to drown out the noise, concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.  The flats made it easier to move, Virginia’s arm warm under her hands a steady point even as her head throbbed.  The doors to the event got closer and closer as they worked the line as quickly as they dared.

Virginia almost hip-checked her first through into safety.  The space where she had been was instantly filled by Kayo, a dark shadow with smokey eyes.  “Back door’s this way,” she murmured, leaning in so no-one would overhear.

Jane took a deep, steadying breath.  “We’ve got to re-run the gauntlet on the way out,” she noted, even as she let Kayo take the lead.

“I know,” Kayo said easily, steering them towards a stairwell.  “But Parker’s restful company, and I put some of your science journals in the back of the car in the unlikely event you get bored.  Just take off the jacket if you have a nap, so it doesn’t show the creases.”  With that last bit of friendly advice, she pushed open a service door and delivered Jane into Parker’s quiet care.

He didn’t speak, and Jane was grateful as she climbed into the dark, silent peace of the back of the car, where the world wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been ten minutes before.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Scarlet after a long, hard day

Scarlet threw her tiny clutch onto the sofa and kicked off her heels with enough force to send them sailing down the hall towards the bedrooms, where they bounced off the walls with twin thuds.

Rolling her neck to release the tension, Scarlet tugged off her earrings and unhooked her necklace, letting them spill off her palm and onto the marble countertop.  An awkward reach around found the hook of the zipper, and she pulled it open, allowing in cool air against her overheated skin as she made it to the refrigerator.

She was just unscrewing the cap on a fresh bottle of juice when the small comm panel on the counter buzzed.  A second later, Jane appeared in holographic miniature.  “Well, that was overly dramatic,” Jane began.  She was in her dome, her hair swimming loosely around her head, out of its usual knot.

Scarlet swigged directly from the bottle.  “Don’t you ever sleep?”

Jane grinned, bright spots of colour high on her cheeks.  “My Scarlet sense was tingling.  What did he say to you to get that reaction?”

Scarlet looked into the bottle and wondered what it would take to turn this juice into wine.  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” she sniffed.  Jane’s hologram flickered, and a collage of paparazzi photographs took her space.  Scarlet cursed softly and turned to dig back into the fridge.  “That didn’t take long.”

Jane reappeared.  “It’s hard to say for sure, from this angle, but that looks right on the border between a slap and a punch.” she said, looking away from the camera, no doubt at one of her many screens. “Yeah, that’s a call that’s going to go to the judges.”

Scarlet straightened up, an entire cheesecake in her hands.  “It was a slap,” she confirmed, finding a spoon in the second drawer she tried.  “You need to make a closed fist for it to be counted as a punch.”

Even on the small hologram, Scarlet saw Jane’s eyebrow climb.  “Good to know,” she said evenly.  “Still not hearing a _why_  though.”

Scarlet filled her mouth with cheesecake.

“Scar- _let_ ,” Jane wheedled.  “What did the bad man say to you.”

Scarlet sighed and wondered if eating all the pie would make her feel better.  “He was talking shit about dad.”

“And?” Jane said, always too perceptive, the one who perhaps knew her best.

Scarlet pushed the dish away. “And he pointed out that no matter how bad a CEO dad was, I’m obviously going to be much, much worse since I’m only playing CEO like, and I quote, a little girl plays with dolls.  At which point I slapped him, which I feel showed great restraint.”

Jane covered her face with her hand for a moment.  “He was trying to get you to lose your cool, Scar.  You know that, right?”

Scarlet tugged her dress off her shoulders, kicking it off and throwing it over the back of the nearest chair.  “Well, hopefully the pain in his face will encourage him not to do it again.”  She’d left her Air Force Academy shirt on the back of the couch, the material worn and soft in her hands as she turned it the right way around and pulled it over her head.

Jane’s face went stern.  “You know his company has been sniffing around our stock price for a while.  And while we could never prove it, I’d bet my best CPU that they were behind that attempt at industrial espionage last month.”

Scarlet had forgotten about that, just one report in among many; Scarlet might not have even registered it if Jane hadn’t found it and put it at the top of Scarlet’s pile.  “Maybe he was right…”

“Don’t make me come down there and slap _you_ ,” Jane cut her off.

Scarlet smiled weakly.  “If that what it would take for me to see you in the flesh again.”  She wiggled, unhooking her bra and tugging it out of the sleeve.

Jane smiled fondly.  “I take it you’re in for the night.”

Scarlet threw her bra down the hall after her shoes.  She’d have to remember to pick it up before the cleaning service came through again, she was in enough trouble with the gutter press already.  “Would you trust me in public right now?”

Jane shook her head, her hair fluttering around her cheeks.  “I guess not.”

“What about you?”  Scarlet did a quick timezone calculation.  “Even you need sleep, Jane.”

She shrugged again.  “I wanted to check in with you when you got home,” she said honestly.  “Also, I have some ideas that won’t attract a front page headline, but which will make him want to crawl home with his balls in a handbag.”

Scarlet burst out laughing.  “Janie!” she cried out, scandalized.

Jane shrugged.  “It was bad enough trying to break into my network, but he’s got you upset enough that you’re eating cheesecake in your underwear at midnight.”  Scarlet blushed, but Jane keep going.  “I say we burn his metaphorical house down.  If we play our cards right, we might even be able to buy it out from under him.”

Scarlet pulled over the pie and cut herself a large slice.  “And here people think you’re the nice sister.”  She dug out a big forkful.  “Tell me everything.”

Smiling like a shark, Jane laid out her plan.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Georgia and a moment of quiet tenderness

The beach wasn’t Jane’s usual habitat, so when Georgia stumbled across Jane, sitting at the high water mark under the shade of one of the palm trees, Georgia wasn’t sure whether to stay or go.

The decision was made for her when Jane lifted her head and locked eyes with her sister.

Georgia crept closer.  “You look tired, Janie.  Still coming down?”

Jane nodded; everyone knew it was hard on Jane, if she left her trips planetside too long.  There was only so much intermittent gravity and a strict exercise schedule could do, and it had been too long between visits for everyone’s liking.

Jane shrugged as if she still carried the world on her shoulders.  “I thought a swim in salt water…you know, neutral buoyancy?  But…” she gestured at the distance to the water like it was an impossible chasm.

Georgia snorted, taking in the swimming outfit, the battered old shirt Jane wore.  “It’s a good idea, come on, kick off your shoes.”

Jane folded in, clutching her knees to her chest.  “I don’t think I should be anywhere near a drowning hazard right now,” she admitted.

Georgia stood, held out her hands until Jane took them and let her younger sister haul her upright.  “Lucky for you, I have the patent-pending, world-famous, one-of-a-kind Georgia Tracy squidsense.  I won’t let you drown.”

Jane gave her a skeptical look, but let herself be led to the waters edge.

This bay was shallow, the water always warm and the waves small and mild.  Georgia walked backwards into the water, fearless, her eyes on Jane’s face.

Jane hated walking in the sea; she said she hated not knowing what she was going to stand on, so Georgia guided her towards the slightly deeper side.  “This is ridiculous,” Janie griped as Georgia urged her to kneel, the water coming up to her chest.

“Hey, if this was space, I’d trust you.  Me and the sea, we’ve got an understanding, okay?” Georgia told her, coaxing her to roll until she was floating on her back.  “There, how’s that?”

“I feel like a cork,” Jane said, her lips twisted into a moue of discomfort.

“Bob, bob, bob,” Georgia agreed, making each sound pop across her tongue.  “Relax,” she cooed as Jane continued to frown.  Kicking back, Georgia laid out, letting the water take her weight, keeping Jane’s body between her legs and Jane’s shoulders under her hands.  “We’re floating here.”  Jane snorted, but it was close enough to a laugh to satisfy Georgia.  “I love floating,” Georgia confided. “You just relax, and the water holds you.”

“This is pretty nice,” Jane agreed, begrudgingly.

Georgia splashed her, careful not to get any water on Jane’s face.  “Welcome to my wonderful world.”

Jane hummed, and Georgia let them float gently on the tiny current.  “You know,” Jane said suddenly.  “You’d love the deep tank at NASA.  You ever been?”

Georgia flexed her hand in the water, subtly altering their course.  “NASA is you and Allie, not me.”

Jane let her head loll against Georgia’s thigh.  “I’ll take you one day, I know the guys who run it.  It’s awesome, you’d love it.”

“I bet I would,” Georgia agreed easily.  They continued to float until the sun started to sink below the peak of Tracy Island.  By unspoken agreement, they found their feet and headed back up to the beach.

“Georgia?” Jane asked, the towel around her neck.  “Thanks.  For…” she waved at the waves.

Georgia shrugged.  “You and space. Me and the sea.  Happy to share.”

Jane paused.  “Likewise,” she said, like an invitation, like a promise, and Georgia couldn’t stop her happy smile for anything.

“I’ll take you up on that one day soon,” she promised back, holding out her hand.

Jane took it, their fingers interlocking together.  She gave an experimental swing and Georgia laughed. Jane smiled and, swinging together like they did when they were little girls, they walked hand in hand back up the path to home.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Georgia, space rescues still leave time to check on your sisters

Space debris was both the bane of Jane’s existence and the stuff of her nightmares.  TB5 had a state of the art magnetic field generator to catch the smaller stuff, and better than the best commercially-available sensors to spot the big stuff.

Other craft out here weren’t so well-equipped.

Jane knew, ever since Allie caught and brought home that sleeper-mine, that there was probably more stuff out there, cloaked or in stealth, that by definition  they couldn’t see.

That one of them bounced off a dreadnought class personnel carrier was just sheer bad luck.

The only bright side was it was a GDF ship that got hit; that meant a disciplined evac, a crew well-drilled in emergency procedures, an entire fleet to take on board the survivors.

It was a slender silver lining.  The GDF mayday had hit Jane first, and TB3 was breaking atmo exactly 11 minutes later.

“This wasn’t what I meant when I said I’d be interested in visiting you at work, Janie,” Georgia quipped before the airlock was even fully open.  Her space-rated suit looked shiny and new, no creases, no worn patches.  

“Well,” Jane replied with a shrug, helping Georgia wobble up the central spine of her Bird towards the screen showing the plan she had activated.  Jane had been listening to Georgia her entire career, knew she downplayed her fear with quips and witticisms.  “Most of the survivors in the affected sections made it to their emergency bubbles.  Which means we need to go fishing, and I think that’s more your expertise than mine.”

Behind her, Jane could hear Eos routing emergency calls, playing traffic cop for all the ships who were diverting to the scene.  In front of her, Georgia’s shoulders came back, her head nodding curtly even as she crammed her helmet back on.  “Okay, let’s bring in the catch of the day.”

There was too much debris, the impact and explosion casting out a spray of new space junk to create fresh hazards. Jane’s first act on taking on the lead for the rescue had been to set up a perimeter, create new space lanes for inbound and outbound rescue craft.  Even so, only the smallest and toughest could get in close.

Jane wasn’t risking TB3; Allie was quick enough on her board to launch directly from TB3′s open cargo bay, sweeping around the perimeter in ever-tightening concentric circles, searching and tagging, and sometimes even dragging by hand bubbles out to safety.

Georgia was their best pod driver; the pod Brains had loaded was space rated and reinforced enough that only the mining pods, zipping over from where they had been docked and ready to transport out to the asteroid belt, were tougher.  It was the obvious choice, even if it added vital minutes to their launch sequence.  

She hoped it had been the right call.  

Jane strapped herself into her pack and toggled her comms.  “Sweep team, sound off ready?”

A chorus of “Go,” came, one after the other, ending with Eos.  “Jane, all craft are on my sensors and green.  Proceeding with search pattern alpha sequence.”

The bubbles were little more than that, tiny soft plastic spheres with a couple of hours of oxygen, a transponder, and little else. Jane knew the pattern like she knew the seams on the back of her glove, and so it was easy enough to search while keeping one eye on Georgia, their paths running in parallel.

Georgia’s pod was bright in the darkness, clearly a bit wobbly at first as she overshot intercepts and overused her thrusters to compensation.  But as Jane began to capture bubbles, handing them off to the shuttles to ferry the survivors to safety, Jane noticed the wobbles diminish, the thruster use become more refined.

Georgia had always been the quickest of all of them to pick up new skills.

Quickly, the number of silvery little bubbles diminished, until the mining crews were left rolling easily through the debris field, their scanners empty of transponders.  The GDF had more vehicles on scene, magnetic lures to capture the debris, small craft to visually search for anything or anyone else.  There were people unaccounted for, and Jane knew that tonight, once the crisis had passed, she might shed a tear for her fellow astronauts.

But for now, her voice was steady as she acknowledged hand-off to the GDF commander and ordered International Rescue off the scene.

Georgia’s hair was a mess, blonde strands sticking to her forehead where she’d been sweating slightly in her suit.  “Man, that was a mess.”

“Big clean up ahead,” Jane agreed, hooking her own helmet back into its position.  “But you did good today, Georgia,” she added, watching Georgia’s small, pleased smile bloom.  “We’ll make an astronaut out of the squid yet.”

Georgia laughed.  “That might be stretching it.”  They had drifted up into the ring, and Georgia grabbed onto a handle, her eyes locked on the view beyond the glass.  The ring was still; Jane didn’t want to risk any tiny part of the debris field getting caught in the mechanism, and their orientation meant they could take in both the curvature of the earth and the cluster of GDF ships, holding station together at the edge of the destruction.  “You’ll keep an eye on them?”

Jane shrugged.  “Always.  It’s what I do, and astronauts look out for each other.”

Georgia turned away from the glass, towards Jane.  “Did you know them?”

Jane swallowed, and turned to dig out a bottle of water to have something to do with her hands.  “The impact was right on their comms hut.  We weren’t, like, close…”

“But you knew them,” Georgia finished.  “Shit, Janie, you should have said.”

“Language,” Jane scolded without ire.

Georgia shrugged it off, pushing off the wall towards her sister.  “Are you going to be okay?”

“Always,” Jane replied, fiddling with the cap.

“Liar,” Georgia answered, taking the bottle from her.  She tried to put it on the counter, but it floated away.  “Come here.”

Georgia smelled of sweat, and recycled oxygen, and of _home_.  She tightened her arms around Jane, and Jane let herself hug her sister back.

Neither let go for a very long time.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hectic days, on the long flight home, Georgia and Virginia talk about weird stuff to not talk about rescues

“Is this a new record?” Georgia asked, yawning through the words.

Virginia fought the urge to yawn in sympathy.  “Oh I hate you,” she muttered, and Georgia just yawned again maliciously.  “Stop that,” Virginia yawned widely. “I still have to get us home.”

“Autopilot?” Georgia asked, laughing weakly at Virginia’s sideways glare.  “Sorry, sorry, forgot which micromanaging sister I was talking to here.”

Virginia chuckled; Georgia’s sass always made her laugh.  On days like today, of back-to-back-to-back rescues, Georgia’s endless good humour made the fatigue just that little bit easier to bear.  “My Bird, my rules,” Virginia said back.

“Fine, but if you fly us into a mountain because you’re so tired, I’m am going to haunt you like Caspar the Bitchy Ghost.”

Virginia burst out laughing.  “Spectre Georgia.  Holy shit, you’re a terror when you’re corporeal, if you could walk through walls you’d be impossible.”

Georgia cackled, kicking her heels up to rest on the edge of the dash, her toes almost brushing the forward windscreen.  Normally, Virginia would yell her boots down, but it had been a long day, and Georgia had spent half of it hanging from the rescue harness.  Her hip had to be hurting by now, no matter how little Georgia let herself complain about the lingering aches of her scars.

Georgia had admitted once to Brains that sitting with her boots up was more comfortable than sitting properly.  After Brains had passed that tidbit on to Virginia, she’d started noticing a pattern to Georgia’s habit of sprawling across furniture.

“What about you?” Georgia asked, breaking in to the memory.

“What about me?”   Virginia tweaked her engine output, smoothing out her fuel curve just a little more.  They were headed for home, no need to burn full out.

Georgia wiggled, getting comfortable.  “If I’m a ghost, what supernatural creature would you be, if you could choose?”

The world outside the windows was dark, just the rhythmic flash of Two’s running lights and the stars far above.  On nights like this, when they were tired and content and flying through the night back home, they seemed to always fall into this pattern, talking crap about any random subject that wasn’t the rescue they had just attended.  “I think…werewolf.”

Georgia gave that due consideration.  “Big and scary or an absolute puppy dog.”  She laughed.  “Turns into a monster once a month…” Georgia laughed again at Virginia’s little noise of protest.  “Awesome hair. Yep, I’d pay werewolf.  What about the others?  I nominate Jane for a fairy.”

“Show your work,” Virginia teased.

Georgia let her head roll back against the headrest as she considered her case.  “Usually shows up in a shower of shiny glitter to give advice, always in flight, if you piss her off she rains down hell but if you please her she leaves you be.”  She thought some more.  “Really likes icecream,” she added like an afterthought.  “Like, really likes icecream.”

Virginia laughed. “You better hope like hell she’s not on comms right now.”

Georgia grabbed her knees, lifting her boots high enough off the console to knock the heels together.  “Nope, no answer, she’s not there.”

“That’s witches,” Virginia pointed out.  “I think.”

“Would Scarlet fit the witch?” Georgia replied, her thoughts ambling aimlessly across the topic, but Virginia was used to the way her tired brain worked by now.  “Zips around on a super-fast broom, all-powerful and all-knowing, bossy as hell.”

“Oooh,” Virginia cackled.  “You better _definitely_  hope she’s not listening.”

Georgia made a rude noise.  “She’s watching us in her cauldron right now.”

“Scrying on your ass,” Virginia agreed.  

“Look at you with the ten dollar words,” Georgia teased.  “What about Allie?”

Virginia licked her lips, thinking through her options.  “You know, I’m not sure. Maybe she’s the ghost?”

“Hey,” Georgia protested.  “We already decided, I’m getting to scare folk and spy on you losers.”

“But maybe you’re the selkie.  Roaming across the oceans, shedding your skin to walk among us mere mortals before you slip back beneath the waves.”

“Oooh.” This time it was Georgia’s turn to sigh.  “That is tempting.  But again, ghosts have the spying.”

On her screens, Virginia caught the beacon that would line her up with Tracy Island and home.  “Ok, maybe Allie’s an imp.  Up to mischief, a kind of fairy,” she offered.

Georgia made a noise halfway between a laugh and a yawn.  “Oh, that fits.  Perfect.” She stretched, making a soft, pained noise.

“You okay,” Virginia asked, even as she lowered her landing gear and prepared for final approach.

Georgia nodded, but even in a quick sideways glance Virginia could see the tightness around Georgia’s eyes.  “Fine, fine, nothing a hot bath won’t fix,” Georgia waved her away.  “Come on, take us home so you can go howl at the moon, you weirdo.”

“Arooo,” Virginia deadpanned, just to hear her laugh again.  “And get your corporeal boots off my console,” she added as the short runway came into view and Virginia turned her attentions fully to the task at hand.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas gift giving was less about price and more about value (also Jane and Allie have similar tastes)
> 
> [[prompt off us discussing a t-shirt](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/154867718508/akireyta-sciencealert-this-shirt-might-not)]

When you and your sisters were all heirs to one of the biggest personal fortunes on the planet, the sentimental value of gifts skyrocketed and the sticker price almost became a non-issue.

Every Christmas became a low-key battleground, each sister vying for the cleverest, wittiest, most referential or, failing all that, the oddest gift in the pile.

Allie knew her sisters were all mistresses of the fine art of gift giving and that she had a lot to learn, so she tried to keep it simple.

Also, t-shirts were pretty forgiving when it came to wrapping time.

Virginia had made her patented eggnog, which was basically rum which had been shown an egg, and Scarlet had made pancakes, so by the time they all piled in to sit around the Christmas tree, they were all feeling no pain.

Virginia cheated, in Allie’s not so humble opinion, and hand-made her gifts, but Scarlet’s little boxes, each full of a dozen useful trinkets and geegaws, ran her a close second.

Allie like to go in the middle, regardless of whatever shuffled-up order of gift-giving they were using that year.  “Me next,” she crowed, just beating Georgia to claim third place.  Crawling under the tree, she began hurling gifts at her recipients, sitting back to steal another measure of nog whilst everyone else ripped into their packages.  She beamed at their murmurs of appreciation, but almost spilled her drink down her front as Jane of all people barked and fell over, laughing.

Scarlet shot Virginia an amusedly worried glance.  “How much has she had?” she asked the room at large, stretching out her pajama-clad leg to poke Jane with her toe.  “Janey?  Want to share with the class?”

Still laughing, Jane rolled over and began pawing through the pile.

“Hey, I was going to go next,” Georgia protested.

“Overruled,” Jane, Virginia, and Scarlet chorused as one.

After a moment’s more ferreting, Jane reappeared and launched a red-wrapped package at Allie’s head.  “Open it,” Jane ordered, accepting a refill of her drink from Virginia.

Confused, Allie peeled off the seam.  With dawning realization, she shook out the heather-grey fabric.

Georgia look at the t-shirt in Allie’s hands, then glanced over at the one spread out on top of Jane’s pile.  “Twinsies!”

“Wait, what?”  Virginia was a little unsteady as she put the pieces together.  “No way!  Oh my god you guys!”

Jane snatched up her shirt.  “Come on, we’ve got to.” Completely unselfconsciously, she tugged off her pajama top and shook out the new shirt.

Virginia chuckled at the way Brains had slapped a hand over his eyes, and used his moment of distraction to top up his glass.  “Insert wolf whistle here,” she called out.

Jane laughed, almost getting tangled but tugging herself free at the last second.  “Ta da!  How do I look.”

Allie had just pulled her on shirt on over the thin material of her pajama top.  “We match!” She cheered.

Scarlet leaned over, holding her glass out to Virginia, whose pours were getting more generous with each refill.  “We,” she told her sister unsteadily.  “Are related to nerds.”

Virginia topped her glass to the brim.  “We,” she replied firmly.  “Are nerds.  We just hide it better.”  The two clinked their glasses together as Grandma chivvied Jane and Allie together to take a photograph.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet occasionally just needs to scream

Scarlet climbed stiffly into the space elevator, her jaw aching as the pod jolted and started the long climb into heaven.

Her eyes were burning, and she screwed them shut, her entire face wincing with the movement.  Every muscle felt hot and tight, her skin prickling and burning, like her entire body was a size too small for all she was feeling.

The climb was interminable, nothing to occupy her mind but a looping replay of all her failures, one piling on top of each other until Scarlet was ready to _scream_.  It had been one hell of a month.

Jane had taken one look at her and sent down the elevator.

Scarlet couldn’t remember how this little ritual started; she suspected she’d suppressed the memory of the first time.  Her space-rated suit was more worn now, fitted a bit better, and Scarlet knew it wasn’t just from the space rescues she’d ridden along with Alana on. 

These trips were becoming more frequent.

Jane met her at the hatch, helmet already on.  She reached out, her grip strong, and hauled Scarlet into a wordless hug, before turning and gently pulling Scarlet towards the main airlock.

This was Jane’s element.  It was strangely relaxing to let go and let someone else take charge.

The view into deep space was breathtaking, nothing but a thin, clear plate between Scarlet and infinity.  Jane checked the tether, nodding to herself inside her own helmet before she jetted off down the body of Five.  She’d stay close by, but the comms were off, as close as anyone could be to perfectly alone.

Scarlet stared into infinity and let it all come out, all the frustrations and anger that were turning inwards with every mistake, every snide remark and direct challenge.  In microgravity, she could take the weight of the world she carried every day and just throw it away, even for a little while.

In space, no-one could hear you scream.

Only when she was wrung out and exhausted, eyes puffy and nose running, would Scarlet let herself cling to the comforting bulk of Five.  Jane would reappear, her Scarlet-sense tingling, and she’d gently bring Scarlet back to the airlock, turning away in the gear-up area to give Scarlet some privacy to blow her nose and wipe her face clean of tears.

Eos had tea ready, warm and fragrant even in sealed mugs.  They’d sit, two sisters watching the world spin below them, until Scarlet felt ready to take charge once again.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgia and Allie talking about Jane in terms of difficulty levels  
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so @navigatorsnorth made me sad talking about characters, so let’s try to not be sad :)~

“She’s going to punch you one day.”  Georgia looked up over the cupboard door over at where Allie was sat at the table, her schoolwork and a mug of cocoa spread out before her.

“Who’s going to punch me why, exactly?”  Georgia pawed through the cupboard until she found the marshmallows.  Allie didn’t like them, the heathen, but she’d left some cocoa in the pan at least.  “People wanting to punch me is not exactly an exclusive category.”

Allie waited until Georgia had slung herself into the seat opposite, the mug clutched in her hands, before answering.  “Jane.  You know she likes her space, but you keep draping yourself over her like a cat.”  Allie shrugged and jotted another answer into her workbook.  “She is going to punch you.”

“No she won’t,” Georgia said, calm and so absolutely confident that Allie froze and looked up from her work.

“I know my sister,” Allie said slowly, half-challenge, half-fishing expedition.

Georgia sipped her cocoa, savouring the flavour.  “Do you want to know the trick?” she whispered.

Allie nodded, eyes wide.  Georgia wondered if she should be telling Allie this, but it wasn’t exactly as if it was a secret.  It was more a misconception.  “Jane loves hugs.”

Allie made a face.  “No she doesn’t.”

Georgia nodded, fishing out a marshmallow with her fingertips.  “She does.  The trick is, she doesn’t _want_ a hug all the time.”  She licked her fingers.  “She loves cuddles, and having her hair played with, and puppy piles on the couch.  But she doesn’t want them all the time, or from just anyone.”

Allie blinked at her like she’d just told her the truth about Santa.  “But Scarlet...”

“Is wrong about this,” Georgia cut in quickly.  It irritated her sometimes, how Jane just went with Scarlet’s view of the world without ever standing up or challenging her.  “Janie and Scar, they have a different type of relationship than me and Jane, or you and Jane.” If Georgia’s first reveal was like telling the truth about Santa Claus, saying that Scarlet was wrong was like executing the reindeer in front of Allie’s face.  “It’s not her fault,” Georgia added hurriedly.  “It’s just she doesn’t get that this is how Janie and I work.  Janie doesn’t say she wants a hug, and I know she needs a hug.”  Georgia shrugged.  “It works for us.”

Allie’s expression was shattered, clearly mentally reviewing a lifetime of interactions.  “But I’ve been...I thought.”

Georgia felt like the biggest idiot in the building.  “Hey, hey, Speedy,” she said quickly, abandoning her cocoa to slide around the table to give Allie a hug of her own.  “It’s okay, Jane is, like, triple black diamond level hard to get.  Expert mode, final boss level hard.”

That got a small laugh out of Allie.  She stayed in Georgia’s hug for a moment before she pulled back.  “Think she’d let me hug her now?”

Georgia winked and reached for Allie’s tablet.  “Secret number two.  You kinda need to come at Jane sideways.”  She saved Allie’s homework and started searching for the pictures she had been looking at last night.  “Here.” She span around the tablet.  “I wanna try that hairstyle, but mine is too short.  Let’s go find Jane and talk her into letting us practice on her.”

Allie’s eyes narrowed as she caught onto Georgia’s scheme.  Nodding slyly, she grabbed Georgia’s hand and led them up towards Jane’s room.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nav requested "Virginia+trembling hands"

Virginia hated to complain.

Complaining drew attention, and Virginia would rather not draw any. Besides, they were all just as tired and worn out and _done_ , with the rain and the mud and the cold and the endless screams and sirens and yelling.

The aftershocks weren’t helping any either.

She’d passed Georgia ten minutes ago.  Georgia’s hair had been plastered to her head, a streak of mud on her cheek where she’d rubbed at it with grubby hands.  “You think we’d be able to get a cup of coffee in Seattle, wouldn’t you?” Georgia had quipped without her usual energy before she was dragged off one way and Virginia another.

Virginia didn’t know what time it was – the sun was lost behind the thick black stormclouds, and the emergency work lights destroyed any last sense of day or night.

So Virginia put her back into, helping to lift and mount support beams to hold back the sodden soil, save what was left to be saved.  And still the rain came and the quakes grumbled on.  She heard the roar of One coming back in after a recon mission, Georgia’s muttered curses over the comms as she swept the bay, even the high note of Allie issuing commands in a loud, firm voice, taking charge as an especially strong aftershock ripped through the disaster area.

Virginia had no special grounds to complain.

But she didn’t argue when workers with Red Cross armbands pulled her into their tent and pushed her onto a foldable chair.  Someone else handed her a hot mug of coffee with an exhausted smile.

Virginia looked into the concentric waves rippling in her mug and realized she was shaking.

“Are you okay?”  Virginia looked up into the tired face of another worker.

“Aftershocks, man,” she lied.  “I swear I’ll never get used to them.”  She pressed her own mug into his hands and went to find the next thing they needed to do.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nav requested: Allie+dust motes

The house was silent, all her sister’s away at rescues.  

Allie wasn’t needed.  “Finish your lessons,” Scarlet had ordered, a sharp finger pointed at her, in warning or admonishment or just a plain order to be obeyed, Allie wasn’t sure and didn’t really care any more.

Her schoolwork was still stacked, untouched, on her desk.  Allie lay on her back on the floor, a beam of sunlight from the window slicing across her chest. The warmth was like a sash from her hip to her shoulder.

Her fingers danced through the air, the little whirs and eddies catching the suspended dust motes, sending them flying even though she herself was still grounded.

They’d need her again, she had to believe.  But until then was only silence.  Her hand fell, her arm dropping over her eyes and plunging her back into darkness.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie and Scarlet, off arts by navigatorsnorth (on tumblr [here](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/155279579023/navigatorsnorth-akireyta-navigatorsnorth)

Allie yawned and stumbled sleepily down towards the kitchen.  She’d wanted to stay up until her sister’s made it home, but she’d ended up falling asleep on her rug.

“How was the… _oomph_.”  Her eyes went wide as the air was knocked out of her, but she automatically wrapped her arms around Scarlet’s waist.  “Everything okay?” She asked.  “You’re kinda scaring me,” she added as Scarlet didn’t answer.

Scarlet straightened up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.  “Sorry,” she muttered, and Scarlet apologizing was itself an event for the diary.  “Just, the rescue…the bus was on a school trip.”  She managed a watery smile.  “They were all about your age, and I just…”  It was Scarlet’s turn to gasp as Allie flew into her.

“Did you save them?” Allie asked, resting her cheek against Scarlet’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Scarlet exhaled hard.  “It was close, but yeah.”

Allie nuzzled in close.  “My hero,” she said, deadpan, jerking a laugh out of Scarlet.  Allie risked patting Scarlet’s cheek as she pulled away.  “Sit, I’ll make breakfast.”

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day,” Scarlet said drily, laughing as Allie stuck out her tongue.

“I was just thinking cereal and coffee, but I was totally going to bring them over to you.”  Allie detoured to the table, maintaining challenging eye contact with Scarlet.  “But if you’re going to be…. _argh!”_ Allie’s arms flailed as she just missed the stool and went over hard, bouncing off the stone floor.

“I’m _arrgh?_ ” Scarlet laughed.

Allie rolled her eyes as she crawled back up, using the table top for leverage.  “We were having a moment,” she said, glaring over the table at Scarlet.  “That really hurt,” she added.

“Oh, come here.”  Scarlet’s hands were strong and calloused as she hauled Allie upright and dusted her down.  “You’re not broken,” she declared, pressing a kiss to the top of Allie’s head.  “Come on, I’ve been meaning to teach you how to make blueberry pancakes.”

Allie’s eyes widened.  That was Scarlet’s top secret recipe.  “You just want someone to make you pancakes,” she teased, keeping it light as she rubbed her hip.

“Guilty as charged,” Scarlet said.  Her levity sounded a little forced too, but neither was ready to call the other on it.  “Come on, I’ll get the ingredients, you find us a bowl, and then you can tell me all about what you get up to when you’re alone on the island.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon requested: could you write some girl!TAG Alana after a really bad rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [chapter content warning for a nasty rescue and mentions of people dying badly]

When the gas main blew, it turned the office building into a sixteen storey shrapnel bomb.

The local emergency teams had called in the military, and the GDF had called in the Thunderbirds.  After that, it was just a rotating convoy of digging out bodies and even the occasional survivor and ferrying them to any nearby hospital that could take the wounded.

The force of the explosion had shattered the delicate glass paneling, twisted the structural beams, shredding the fabric of the building into a billion tiny, deadly projectiles, slanted walls perilously balanced over fractured floor plates.

In the heat of the rescue, it was just so many pieces to be cleared, checked, removed.  Allie could hear the hiss and whine of the servos in Virginia’s suit as she cleared the path ahead of them of the bigger pieces.

Georgia had retreated to Two to patch her sliced suit, a falling shard catching her at just the right angle to breach the seal.  Allie kept going, her field of vision collapsed to the space in front of her boots as she lifted and listened both to the calm commands from Jane at her scanners high above and for any faint cries for help from below.

Alana had helped lift out the corpses.  She’d sat with the woman whose business casual white blouse was red and sodden with her blood as she’d breathed her last.  She’d fetched gurneys and held aloft drips as the local paramedics had loaded patients into their wagons.  She’d seen so much death today that it no longer registered on any conscious level.

It was the phone that did it.

She almost didn’t register the hand next to it at first; human skin normally wasn’t concrete grey and that still.  But the phone was a splash of colour, the case all pinks and oranges in the dust.

Someone chose that case to be visible.  Someone chose it because it was bright and cheery.  The phone screen was cracked, but even as Allie stared at it, it flared to life again.

The call icon was labeled ‘mama.’  It flashed, eight rings, then fell silent.  A moment later, another message.   _Sixteen missed calls._

Allie wasn’t aware she was crying until Georgia unsealed her helmet and the cool, filtered air inside Two’s cockpit hit her wet cheeks.  She had no memory of being led away.

“She was…and…did someone answer…?”

Georgia nodded, her fresh uniform glove dry and clean as she ran her thumb across Alana’s cheeks.  “I got Jane to call her back,” Georgia murmured, voice low and calm.  “Jane’s good at that, you know she is.”

Allie knew it was a freak accident.  Allie knew that sometimes, no matter the precautions taken, all the care and all the diligence in the world couldn’t save everyone all the time.  Allie knew that there would be hundreds of families across the city who would be grieving tonight.

She couldn’t get her head around that fact, except in the most abstract, clinical terms.

But her heart could hold the pain of one mother calling for a child who never answered.

Allie crashed forward, squashing her face into Georgia’s shoulder, her arms holding her sister tight around the waist as she cried and cried and _cried_.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked for: Random girl!tag ideas at 11pm: Jane finding V asleep in the kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> erring on the side of caution and content warning for discussions of pregnancy

Out of all of them, Virginia was probably best at keeping good habits.  She tried to get to bed at a reasonable hour, she ate well balanced meals, she made time for herself and her hobbies but she also studied to keep her skills sharp.  She admitted when a rescue got to her, and maintained a wide social network to fall back on.

Therefore, it was notable to find her crashed out at the kitchen table, a mostly empty tub of triple chocolate chip icecream slowly turning into a melted, sticky mess by her elbow. Her hair was a mess, and she was wearing her oldest, most stained and ripped t-shirt.

Jane took in the scene, feeling too freshly arrived in a gravity well to make full sense of this.  

By the time she had fetched herself a glass of juice and settled down at the table opposite, Virginia had started to stir.  Jane waited patiently for full consciousness to return.  “Tough day?”

Virginia tried to push her hair back and winced at her sticky fingers.  Jane wordlessly passed a damp cloth over.  Something was off, but she couldn’t put a pin in exactly what it was.  But out of all her sisters, Virginia was the easiest to come straight at.  “So what tipped you over into midnight ice cream runs?”

Virginia blinked.  “It’s that late?”

Jane shrugged.  “Closer to 1am now, to be honest, but you look like you’d settled in for the evening long before I got here.”  Jane poked the ice cream container.  “Drowning your problems in chocolate is more a Georgia thing.  What gives?”

Virginia wouldn’t meet her eyes for a very long time.  “I’m late.”

Jane blinked.  “Yeah, it’s gone past one…”

“No,” Virginia cut her off.  “I’m _late_.”  She made a complicated gesture about her mid-section.

Jane froze.  “Well, shit.  What’d the test say?”

Virginia gave a tiny shrug.  “I haven’t…not yet.”  Finally, she looked at her sister.  “I have no idea what I’ll do, no matter what it says.  I thought I’d come down while everyone else was asleep, but…” she glanced across the room towards the passage, then back at Jane.  “I can’t quite seem to get there.”

Jane didn’t have an answer for her; she barely had a frame of reference.  “Want me to run the test for you?”

Virginia nodded.  As they rose, Jane was only slightly surprised that Virginia reached for her hand.  “I don’t think I am,” Virginia all but blurted out.  “Oh but Janey, what if I was?”

Jane tugged her gently towards the stairs down to their med suite.  “One step at a time, Gin. Come on.”

 * * *

Urine was quicker, but blood was more accurate.  They all knew how to handle needles, for all that Jane barely got to practice these days.  She paused before loading the full syringe cartridge, tapping a few quick commands to keep this off the logs.

Brains was meticulous about these machines as any others on the island.  If the test was positive, he should hear it from V, not from some data log.

The analysis tools were mostly automated, though it took Jane a minute to find the pregnancy test, buried in a sub-menu.  “Now we wait,” she announced, crossing the room in two easy strides to boost herself up onto the bed next to where Virginia was perched.

“Totally not stressful at all,” Virginia quipped weakly, checking her injection site with a professional glance before she tossed the small gauze pad into the bin. “How’s your day going?”

Jane gently bumped her arm against Virginia’s.  “Easier than yours.”  She exhaled slowly, mapping in her mind the possible turns ahead.  “What did you mean, you have no idea what you’d do?”

VIrginia was silent for a long time.  Jane waited patiently, feeling the slight tics and tremors threading through Virginia’s muscles.  “I guess.  I don’t know,” Virginia shrugged.  “I never thought of myself as someone’s _mother_.  Brains is for keeps, I know that much, but…are either of us parent material?  Plus,” Virginia added before Jane could answer.  “The whole rescue thing.”

“That small detail,” Jane joked, just to coax a laugh out of Virginia.  “You do know…” she added slowly.  “If you are, and this is something you both want, we’d make it work.  Right?”

Virginia sighed, slumping forward. “I know.”  Her shoulders drooped as she sighed.  “I just don’t know if I want it.  If you’d asked me yesterday, I’d have definitely said not any time soon.”

“But that was yesterday,” Jane finished.  From the corner of the lab, there was a light, melodic _ding_  as the automatic lab process finished.  “Ready for this?”

“No,” Virginia admitted.  “But let’s do this.”  

Jane slid off the bed and crossed the room, aware of Virginia’s stare even at a distance. A few quick taps brought up the summary.  “Okay,” Jane said, releasing a breath she wasn’t sure why she was holding.  “Negative.  You’re officially not pregnant.”

“Oh,” Virginia rolled on the bed, landing on her side, her head just shy of the pillow.  “Okay.  Good.”

“Good?” Jane asked, leaning her hip on the machine as she studied Virginia’s slumped form.

Virginia nodded slowly.  “Yeah.  I think?  Yeah.”  She sat up up in an explosion of nervous energy.  “I mean, if that’s a thing that’s going to happen, it would be better to plan it out, right?  Talk to Brains about it first.”  Even as Jane watched, Virginia straightened up.  “I’m not saying never, just….not now.  Not yet.”  She nodded tightly.

Jane stepped forward.  There was no-one on or off this world she knew as well as her sisters.

She didn’t need to see tears to know how close Virginia was to crying.

Virginia tucked her chin over Jane’s shoulder, turning to bury her face in Jane’s hair.  “Thanks,” she murmured.  “I didn’t think this would cause a meltdown.”

Jane rubbed her cheek against Virginia’s.  “If anything merits a meltdown, this does.  But for the record?”  She turned until they were face to face.  “If and when the time comes?  You’re going to be be a great mother.”  Virginia blushed, and Jane grinned.  “Not as awesome as their most awesome Aunt Jane, but…” she laughed as Virginia gave her a gentle shove.

Jane rolled with the moment, using her arms to rebound right back into the hug.  “You gonna be okay?”

Virginia smiled, watery but real.  “I think so.  I guess it was just the sudden _possibility_  of it all that caught me off guard.”

“It’s a big step,” Jane agreed.  “But if you ever start thinking about taking it, you can count on me.”  She thought for a second.  “Except maybe for diaper changes.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “There, you’re on your own.”

That startled a giggle out of Virginia.  “Brains would just make some clever changing machine, and you know it.”  She sighed.  “Come on, crisis over.  You and I should both be in bed.”

Arm in arm they headed back upstairs.

Neither remembered to turn off the lab machine.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning after the late pregnancy test the night before

Brains frowned at the log discrepancy, tapping his stylus against his bottom lip for a moment as he considered the possibilities.  There hadn’t been any incident that required the use of the medbay in weeks.  At least, nothing official.

It was probably Alana; if she got hurt doing something she shouldn’t, she was remarkably good at hiding it until the bruises healed.

Still, Brains thought as he pushed back from his work station.  He should check, just to make sure she put it all back together correctly, while things were still quiet.

The girls were scarce today; Virginia hadn’t gotten to bed until after midnight, and then she had a six am call, so Brains thought he may have, possibly, kissed her shoulder and wished her good morning, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

The thought sat uneasy; he always preferred to greet Virginia properly, send her off with warm and steady affection.  Brains knew, they all knew, how quickly people could disappear from your life even when you didn’t want them to go.

But she was still out, and she’d taken Georgia and Alana with her. Scarlet had grabbed Jane on her way out to head office, and who knew where Grandma or Kayo went when either of them didn’t want to be found.

His footsteps echoed loudly as he made his way through the house and down to the sublevels, and he hummed quietly to himself to keep himself company.

Medbay was pristine, not a tray out of place.  Brains glanced at the biohazard bin out of pure habit, his step stuttering to a halt at the sight of a hypo, a small square of white gauze with a browning bloom of blood in the centre.

Intravenous injection, his mind contributed helpfully.  Alana was more bandages and ointment, bruises and small cuts in her misadventures.  And Georgia never came down here at all if she could at all help it.

That left the elder three – Virginia usually came to him if she needed a patch up, even if it was just a bandaid.  She always demanded he kiss it better, and he was all too happy to comply.  

Scarlet was good at giving shots, but not taking them.  Jane, perhaps?  She was used to being self-sufficient.

Still, worrying.

Brains tapped on the machine and froze.

Not Jane, then, unless he had seriously misunderstood his friend’s approach to the world.

It _could_ be one of the younger girls, but some instinct doubted that. That left only Scarlet, or Virginia.

Brains rubbed across his temple with work-rough hands and tried to regather his scattered thoughts.

* * *

Virginia was laughing at some stupid crack of Georgia’s as she took the gangway down to the hangar deck in a series of bouncing steps and over to the pallets MAX had helpfully dragged out of storage for them.  She ran a fond hand over his camera casing even as she mentally tallied the crates. The oil rig fire had mostly been contained by the onsite crew, but the evac had been long and dirty, and had used up a stack of their onboard supplies.

As much as she wanted to shower for a year until the scent of burning crude was out of her nose, she had to reload her Bird first.  She bent to the first crate and got a good grip.

“VIRGINIA!”  

She muttered a curse as she almost dropped the heavy crate on her foot. Shifting her weight desperately, she regained control of her load.  “Do NOT yell at the girl carrying something heavy enough to squash you,” she snapped, tired enough to feel a flash of temper.

“We have loading pallets…”  Brain was close enough now to touch, and Virginia tried to keep an eye on him around the edges of the crate as she turned back to the gangway.

“And the loading pallets are different to the storage rollers, so we can double handle them from pallet to pallet to Bird, or I could just carry it once straight into position,” she countered with strained patience. She’d pointed out this flaw in his system before.

“But you s-shouldn’t be c-carrying…”

Brains was still fluttering, and she could feel the strain settling into her lower back.  “Brains, MOVE!”  This time she managed to get the right snap of command into her tone to get him out of the way.  Gritting her teeth, she stormed up into the hold and dropped the crate into its slot with less care than she’d normally show.  “Okay, what’s up?”

Brains moved in close, closer than he normally did when she was in uniform.  “Are you…you s-shouldn’t…”

Virginia was tired, and dirty, and had a faint sugar headache after eating most of a pint of icecream by herself at midnight.  “That’s a lot more shouldn’ts in there than you usually know not to use,” she pointed out archly.

Brains eyes flickered to her belly, and she _knew_ he knew.  For a second, she could taste acid and bile over the lingering stench of burnt crude oil.  “Georgia?” She called out, never breaking eye contact with Brains. “Remember that favour you owe me?  I’m calling it.  Get Two back to ready for me.”

“What? Me? Seriously?”  Even without looking, Virginia knew that Georgia’s eyes would be wide, her sisterly radar pinging on all frequencies.  Virginia never left her Bird before she was ready again.

Virginia waved her away.  “Don’t doubt I’ll be checking later.  But I’ve got something I need to do that can’t wait.”

Barely waiting for Georgia’s squawk to the affirmative, Virginia grabbed Brains by the wrist and towed him out her Bird and across the hangar.

* * *

Brains felt something awful and unidentifiable as he explained how he’d come to see the results on the scanner, but he wasn’t sure _why_.  He wasn’t the one keeping secrets.

Virginia listened impassively, arms crossed.  She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her gloved fingers as Brains finally trailed off.  “Goddamnit, Janey,” she muttered, low enough that Brains thought he wasn’t meant to hear.  “Okay, yeah,” she said louder, straightening up, her shoulders rolling back like she was bracing herself.  “I had a little scare.  But we’ve been busy, it was probably just stress.  It was nothing, false alarm.”

“Oh.” Brains felt himself deflate slightly.  “Right.  False Alarm.  Nothing.  Right.”

“Brains…” Virginia sighed, her arms dropping.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but whatever it was was unpleasant.  “No, you s-said, it’s nothing.  I over re-reacted.”

Virginia sighed, and Brains knew that sound, knew by heart the curve of her soft, sad smile whenever she made that noise.  “Have I fucked up?” she asked quietly.

Brains felt welded to the floor.  “N-no.”  He winced at how unsure he sounded.  “It was j-j-just a surprise.”

Virginia chuckled, low and rough.  “You’re telling me, mister.”  Their eyes met, and the fragile tension in the air shattered, unlocking them both.

He stepped forward, hands easy on her hips, not noticing or caring about the smears of grease and the strong, lingering smell of heavy smoke.  She was pulling him in, and they fit back together like cogs in a clock, every edge finding its match for all the differences between them.  “I was going to tell you,” she said into his hair. “Today, even.  I swear.”  

Brains nodded, believing her. “You should have woke me up last night.  We could have waited for the test together.”

Pressed in close, he felt her ribs expand and contract, a silent little laugh.  “I guess I just needed to know myself, before I could even think the words.”

Brains nodded; he knew her well enough to know how her mind worked.  “You s-shouldn’t have been alone, though.”

She leaned her head in to press their cheeks together.  “I wasn’t….Janey held my hand.”  He listened to her breath, waiting.  “She said…if we ever decided that this was a thing we wanted…that we could make it work.”

Brains straightened his spine as he caught her face between his hands and held her gaze.  “Is this a thing you want?”

She was pale, under the layer of grime.  “Maybe?  I’m not sure.  You?”

He leaned in to gently brush the tip of his nose against hers.  “D-d-ditto,” he admitted.

She brushed her thumb against his jaw, and winced.  “How about I clean up, and we split that bottle of wine I know you have tucked away upstairs, and we just…talk.”

Brains nodded, reluctantly letting her go.

Virginia paused in the doorway and half-turned to look at him.  “I will need someone to scrub my back, however.”

Brains blinked, blushed, and scrambled after her as she headed upstairs.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked for: something/anything with Scarlet and V

 

The site was too big.

Scarlet shook her head, dislodging the thought that felt too much like defeat already. and tried to get to grips with what she was seeing.

Jane had laid out the preamble on the flight over - one of the supermassive cargo containers had a full systems malfunction, all engines hard ahead just as it was nosing its way into port.  Those ships carried hundreds of tonnes, and had propellers to match their size.  

The tiny crew had no choice but to hold on as the ship forced its way through, and sometimes over, smaller vessels, smashing through an old rock surf barrier and into the private marina, finally coming to rest on its side halfway up the bank.  It’s bulbous nose was blocking a main road that had been packed with traffic, and according to the babbling reports of those who’d met her on the ground, the ship hadn’t fallen so much as gracefully collapsed under its own weight..

The spray of cargo containers all the way back to shore confirmed their story.

There were sunken boats, a shattered marina – it was summer here, so who knew how many were crushed or drowned – plus the pile up of cars.  The tide was already rushing past the ruined surf wall to eat away under the roadbed, meaning anything they needed that was heavy would have to come in by sea or air, and there wasn’t a plethora of landing sites between the shore and the steep slopes cut over the ages by the river.

Scarlet clicked on her comm, all hands.  “V, what’s your ETA?”

“Seven minutes out,” Virginia sounded refreshed and in command.  Like someone who hadn’t put in a full day at the New York office, who hadn’t then jetted over to the UK to have a working dinner with their London Agent, and who hadn’t then helped out a pair of stranded high altitude climbers.  Like someone whose eyes weren’t already burning, whose brain wasn’t already a little slow and soft around the edges.

Scarlet turned on the spot, taking in the carnage.  “Drop Georgia and Four off as close to the commercial dock as she’s comfortable with, then come find me,” she ordered, forcing herself into the climb up the slope to do what she could for seven minutes.

Two’s VTOLs roared like a symphony as she came in to land, and Scarlet straightened, half-turning away from the almost hysterical ramblings of the dockmaster as he tried to make sense of the chaos he was in.  A few seconds later, Scarlet spotted Virginia, moving in an easy stride that ate up the ground.  Behind her, Allie was moving more slowly, her head tilted up to take in the great bulk of the beached carrier.

Scarlet met her half way, the downhill slide almost sending her tumbling into Virginia’s arms.  “Woah, you okay there Red?”

Scarlet was always telling Allie that she had to admit when you weren’t okay.  Time to step up. “No,” she said, keeping her eyes on Virginia so she didn’t have to look at her youngest sister’s face.   “Not unless there’s time for me to take an eight hour nap,” she added.  Only because she was looking so carefully only at Virginia did she catch the tiny flash of widened eyes.  But it was gone so quickly no-one else had a chance to notice it.

“Should you even be here, then?”

Scarlet shrugged.  “I’m not dead on my feet yet. But this is complex, and my brain is about fifty percent white noise now.”  Scarlet paused, tilting her head.  “Jane, you there?” she asked, not even tapping her comm.

“Always. And I thought you got a nap in London.”

“Half hour catnap,” Scarlet demurred.  Now was not the time to mention how the quarterly projections were keeping her up at night again.  “Jane, what do you say about quarterbacking Virginia as she takes point?”

This time, Virginia’s eyes went so wide Jane could probably see them from her window.  “What?”

Scarlet pushed on.  “It’s a mess, I know, but it’s basically a quadrant search, and you can do those in your sleep.”  The little timer that was always running in Scarlet’s head on a rescue, the one that set the rhythm, was running down to zero.  “Gin, if I take this now, I’m going to make a fucking stupid mistake.  So I’m putting you in charge of the site while I get GDF and port authority and the local police and whoever else in a row for you.  Okay?”

A pause, a deep breath, then Virginia nodded.  “But no backseat driving, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Scarlet sketched a salute.  “Orders?”

Virginia looked up the slope.  “Well, you deal with that,” she said, nodding at the flashing lights as more wagons pulled up. “Allie, with me.”

More than one of the local emergency responders asked her if she was okay, and Scarlet wondered if she looked that bad.  But the local uniforms were pliable enough – IR Blue was better than a platinum visa card some days – and it was easy even half-dead on her feet to get them moving as a unit.

And more so than usual, she had half an ear attuned to Virginia’s voice on the comms.

Virginia gave orders that weren’t orders.  They were suggestions, for how the world might work better if you just did this one little thing, oh yes, like that, thank you very much.

Scarlet knew all her sister’s moods, but for all they had worked together, Scarlet rarely knew Virginia to be so _charming_.

It came in pulses, brief bursts that disarmed any resistance, broke through shock and disbelief and grief, and got survivor after survivor up the bank and into the waiting arms of the local responders.  Even when she was snapping orders, getting slow workers moving faster, the fast ones moving safer, there was a timbre to her voice that implied a ‘please and thankyou, so kind’ that normally wasn’t there when she was just being Virginia.

It reminded Scarlet of dad.

She filed that thought away in a mental box labeled “to never see daylight again” and kept moving, waving in the next lot of wagons, signalling a path clear for the black morgue van to get through, trying to keep the chessboard of vehicles and services straight in her foggy head.

“Scarlet…I mean, Virginia,” Jane cut in as dusk finally began to settle on the scene.  “The unit dispatched by WASP are on approach, would like a vector confirmation to the functional part of the dock.”

Scarlet mouthed her name even as Virginia replied “Hey, Georgia, you’re up.  Go speak squid to your people,” she added, almost an afterthought.

Scarlet wasn’t expecting the joke, and she laughed a little too loud.  Around her, heads snapped around angrily, shocked at the desecration of their grief.  Scarlet stumbled out of the tent, one of the row they had set up under her sloppy commands.  “Hey, Scar,” Jane’s voice was quiet under the _click_ to their private channel.  “You doing okay?”

“Still upright, barely,” Scarlet admitted.  “Virginia seems to be going okay.”

“You know how she rolls.”  Jane’s voice had that faint echo that Scarlet associated with the global command sphere on Five.  She could picture her sister now, floating serenely as she balanced a thousand points of data and still had time to talk to her exhausted big sister.  “She gets a job, she makes it her own.  She’s doing good,” Jane added, almost encouragingly.

“I know,” Scarlet said, fighting a yawn.  “I knew she would.”

Jane laughed, low and secretive.  “How many times have you had to stop yourself stepping in to give an order?”

Scarlet bit back her laugh, too acutely aware of the row of body bags in the tent behind her.  “Once or twice.”

“Ha,” Jane said flatly.  “Georgia owes me ten bucks then.  She thinks I’ve muted your comms.”

Scarlet actually had to cover her mouth with her glove.  “How’s she doing?”

“Winding Four back into her pod now,” Jane said.  “WASP will take over jurisdiction at sundown.”

Automatically, Scarlet turned towards the orange glow on the horizon.  “So, what, ten more minutes.”

“And then straight to bed for you,” Jane said like the writ of god.  Scarlet actually _felt_  her limbs getting heavier with the command.  “And if you think you’re flying One home, guess again.”

“I’m not leaving her here,” Scarlet grumbled, already turning towards Two.

“Well, your choices are Allie, or me via the autopilot.  But you’ve been a good girl today, so you get to pick your poison.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes.  “Stow the sassypants, spacecase,” she grumbled, raising her hand to catch Allie’s attention.  “Speedy’s done her homework, right?”

“Yep, all correct too,” Jane said, a little proudly.  “Go on, make her day.”

Allie’s eyes went wider than Virginia’s, but her takeoff was flawless.  Scarlet watched through Two’s windshields until Allie vanished from sight.  Next to her, Virginia went through the motions of putting Two into the air, sweeping her low over the water towards the ping that was Georgia waiting for collection.  “I’m proud of you,” Virginia said softly, never taking her eyes off her instruments.

Scarlet scoffed. clicking her neck.  “That’s my line.”

Virginia finally glanced sideways.  “We always tell Allie to do that.  But seeing _you_  do that?  It’s gonna stick.”

Scarlet slid lower in her seat and closed her eyes.  “Wish it didn’t have to come to this,” she admitted.  “Maybe I’m getting old.”

“Mid-twenties, so ancient,” Virginia deadpanned.  “But seriously, any time you needs us, we’re there.  You know that, right?”

Scarlet grinned, never opening her eyes.  “So I can count on you to be the token Tracy at the Levin Foundation Ball next month?”  The social event had been sitting like a dead fish on her calendar for weeks.

Virginia groaned, loud over the _thunk_ of the retractor bolts locking, ready to haul Four back into the hold.  “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

Scarlet grinned.  “You are good, padawan, but you still have much to learn.”


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nav asked: can i get a fix of big sisters being all "she's growing up a fast" about Speedy?

Jane was patched in mid-argument.

“-of passage,” Scarlet was arguing, Virginia leaning back into her seat from where she had thumbed open the call.  “And Jane will agree with me.”

Jane raised an eyebrow even as she stretched out her legs and got more comfortable on her narrow bunk.  It had already been a long day of calls and consultations, and she’d been looking forward to bed.  “Jane will hear the problem and all evidence and make her own decision,” she corrected archly, ignoring for the moment Ginny’s smug expression.

Scarlet’s nails were ragged, visible even in the tiny holocom as she tiredly pushed back her hair.  “Allie’s homeschool network runs this thing, they get all the kids together in some central city and throw them a party.”

“Kind of a Prom thing,” Virginia clarified.

Scarlet pursed her lips at the interruption.  “And it’s this weekend,” she finished as if that explained all.

Jane’s pillow was singing a siren’s song.  “So?  She has ten million formal dresses good enough for some high school prom, and we all know you’d be lurking outside like the world’s scariest chaperone.  Stick a uniform in the back of One in in case she needs to go on call, tell her not to drink the punch, we’re good.”

Scarlet’s arms dropped in an explosive sigh.  “Janie, Allie didn’t tell us.  We only found out because they sent us a message asking to confirm her RSVP.”

“So,” Jane repeated more slowly.  “She doesn’t want to go?  Problem solved.” She glanced at Virginia’s tight little nod.  “Not solved?”

“Jane, even you went to your prom.”

Jane laughed.  “And that’s three hours of my life I’ll never get back.”  She sighed, tucking her ankle up as she leaned closer into the comms field.  “Scarlet, my brain is pretty much drowning in fatigue here, so throw me a bone.”

“Prom is a thing,” Scarlet explained, almost visibly frustrated.  “It’s a rite of passage, as I was telling this one,” she added, swinging a kick in Virginia’s general direction.  “She’d regret not going.”

Jane took a deep breath, letting it stiffen her spine.  She hated having to tell Scarlet these things.  “She’d regret it, or you would?”

It was a direct hit.  “This isn’t about me,”

“It’s about Speedy,” Virginia interjected smoothly.  “And yeah, she didn’t get to go to a high school, didn’t get asked out to prom, didn’t have to eat cafeteria food….”

“Lucky,” Jane muttered, inspecting her nails.

Virginia plowed on.  “But that doesn’t mean she’s not getting her landmarks, her own rites of passage.  She holds, what is now Jane, four speed records?”

“Five after that solar slingshot.”

Virginia nodded, gesturing towards Jane.  “Exactly.  If she wants to go to prom, I will fly her there myself.”

“And slip her the vodka to spike the punch,” Jane interjected, eyes still on her fingers.

“Damn straight,” Virginia laughed.  “But if she doesn’t, it’s not because we’re depriving her of anything.”

Scarlet deflated, sinking back onto the sofa, arms flung wide in defeat.  “What happened to that little baby who used to toddle after us?”

Jane laughed.  “She discovered the accelerator pedal and has been punching it ever since.”  She took in her two sisters, in mirrored sprawls around the big projector.  “Has anyone even checked with Allie to ask if she wants to go?”  

“Well, umm,” Scarlet hedged.  

Jane gave into the urge to facepalm.  “Go.  Ask her.  Accept her answer.”  She held up her other hand.  “Pinky swear me Scar, you’ll not try to force her if she really doesn’t want to go.”

Scarlet shook her head with a smile.  “Fine, I promise.”  Jane’s projection shimmered as Scarlet reached into the light field to seal her bargain.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nav asked for: Allie and Grandma and gardens

The island was mostly untouched jungle – the house covered the scars of hangar construction, and it was possible to be ten feet from the pool deck and not even realize the house was there at all.

Lawns and flowers and a picket fence had very clearly not been part of the design brief.

But Allie knew where the daisies in the vase on the counter came from. Checking to make sure none of her sisters were lurking, Allie climbed the stairs.

There were a few ways onto the barely used eastern deck off the upper level, but Allie always went in through grandma’s room.  She could hear grandma’s off-key singing through the open doors, and so if Allie slowed to take in the nest of framed photographs on grandma’s bureau, there was no-one there to see and judge.

Grandma glanced up from under her sunhat as Allie finally stepped onto the deck.  “Hey kiddo.”

“Hey grandma,” Allie said, reaching for the second pair of gloves left on top of grandma’s bucket of hand tools.  “How’s the jasmine recovering after the storm?”

Grandma patted the big pot beside her.  “Oh, jasmine’s tougher than it looks, kiddo.  Come on, help me plant out these seedlings before they burst their punnets.”

Allie though there was something easy about digging your fingers into warm soil, patting down the tiny green shoots, and sitting back to watch them grow and grow and grow.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nav asked for: Jane, Georgia, music playing in another room

Jane drifted into the room on a wave of music.  “Is Virginia okay?” she asked as she stepped down into the sunken lounge to stand over where Georgia was sprawled on the couch, a pile of cushions stacked under her knees.

Georgia snorted through her nose.  “She’s been playing Rachmaninov for the better part of an hour, what do you think?”

Jane was already fighting the nausea that always accompanied her first hour or so dirtside, until her balance reset itself.  Swaying slightly, she folded her arms over her belly.  “Are you going to do anything about it?”

Georgia finally tilted her head to look directly at Jane.  “Relax, fairycakes, it’s all under control.”

Jane considered kicking the pile of cushions, but suspected she’d just lose her balance.  Instead, she settled for raising one arched eyebrow.

Georgia beamed at her, twisting around on her back so she was looking at Jane upside down.  “Pressure at a point.  Ah, here we go.”  Georgia’s flailing arms nearly clipped Jane as she took a quick step back.  “She’s in there, Brains.”

Waving his thanks, Jane just caught a glimpse of Brains’ focused expression as he headed down the hall towards the music room buried deep in the centre of the house.

Georgia was grinning at her, unbearably smug.  “See.  Any other problems I can solve for you today?”

Jane took a deep breath and let herself flop onto Georgia.  “Quit yelping and stop the world spinning, Georgia.”

Georgia made a disgruntled noise, but she tugged Jane up so she was wedged between Georgia and the back of the sofa.  “Fine, bossypants,” Georgia grumbled, but she was gently stroking Jane’s hair back as she spoke.  “I’ll see what I can do.”


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a request for: Any chance of seeing what drove Gin to Rachmaninov?

It was a day of small insults and minor irritations after a long week of back-to-back, constant, endless bouncing between earthquakes and landslides, floods and and building collapses.

A part of her preferred the natural disasters – the mindlessness of them drove Scar to distraction, Virginia knew, but she had always preferred natural catastrophes to the man-made ones.  A dam could be constructed without cutting corners on materials, a building could have a foundation deserving of its height.

She shouldn’t have to be roused out of bed because someone didn’t think quality concrete was worth the price of the pour.

Fatigue was showing now everywhere – Two had a hum, the tiniest shimmy through the yoke that Gin knew presaged a warning light somewhere on her dash, but despite spending every spare second between mission end and mission start, she couldn’t find the cause.  The turnaround time had gotten so short she’d had to jury-rig solutions to problems they’d already solved, the needed parts sitting in storage on the island and not restocked in the pods.

That there was no-one to blame but herself for that was just another scrape across already raw nerves.  They’d made it through the mission more on luck than skill, the urge to just give into the need for a temper tantrum getting stronger and stronger.

That they’d had to tag out three body bags stopped her from yelling.  The people responsible were sitting comfortable in suits in front of budget tallies half a world away.  She’d passed the details up to Jane and turned her Bird once more for home.

“You l-l-look ready for a nap,” Brains had greeted her at the end of the gantry.

“I’m ready for people to stop being morons,” Gin had snarled so sharply that  Brains had taken one swift step back.  She stomped past him, not pausing this time to check in.

Brains was an engineer; he’d want to fix this, but Virginia knew frustrations like this couldn’t be repaired.

The water in the shower was just this side of scalding, but Virginia let it boil off the smell of dust and pointless death until her fingers were pruny and her hair drooping limply as it dripped down her face.

Despite the warmth of the island, she reached for her favourite flannel, a loose pair of pants that were worn like second skin.  She probably should have put on her pjs, taken a nap, or at least pulled on her boots and gone down to restock the pods properly, check the job was done right this time.

She made it as far as the piano.

The pedals were worn, the slight curve a welcome pressure against the knots under her skin.  There was sheet music in the seat, but her fingers lightly found an old yet still familiar pattern.

She’d played this piece endlessly, in the too-short breaks between boarding school terms, the notes repeated until they’d worn a specific groove in her brain.

She felt her breathing slow, her shoulders come down from around her ears.  People were dumb, and others died.  She made a mistake, and more might have died too.

Luck and skill.

Virginia worked the pedals, feeling the music pound out and engulf her and scrub her sins away.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nav requested: Allie and Georgia and late night videogames

There was a light on under Allie’s door.

Georgia stopped, sleep-addled brain trying to process _why_  that felt so wrong.

Right.  Sleep.  It was 3am on the island, and Georgia had been standing right next to Allie five hour ago when Jane had ordered them off duty and straight to bed.

Allie was made of rocket fuel and sweetness, but not even she would be awake again already.  Georgia scuffed a hand tiredly through her haphazard hair and shuffled towards the light.

There was no answer to her light tap-tap, so Georgia pushed the door open a crack.  Allie was sprawled on her belly on the floor, eyes glued to the flashing screen, headphones a slash of black curving over blonde hair let loose from its normal braids.

Georgia pushed the door open further, knowing she’d see a bed undisturbed.

The movement caught Allie’s attention.  “Oh, hey Georgia,” Allie whispered, mindful of the sleeping house.  The lights stopped flashing as Allie paused her game, shoving her headseat back just enough to give Georgia attention.  “Did a call come in?”

Georgia shook her head, stepping in and silently closing the door behind her.  “Still another three hours on downtime.”  Georgia pursed her lips at Allie’s sudden flash of disappointment.  “Emphasis on _down._ As in heads down, on pillows, snoring.  Drooling, even, if that takes your fancy.”

Georgia was the first to admit it wasn’t her best material, but it barely raised even a smile from her baby sister.  “Not tired.”

“Alli-cat,” Georgia said as kindly as she could.  “I call _bullshit_.  You did a twelve hour rescue, on the ground, right by me.  And I am _exhausted_.”

Allie rallied valiantly.  “Well, you are older than me…”

An old hoodie was discarded on the carpet, and it took Georgia only a second to hook it with her toe and send it flying at Allie’s head.  “Respect your elders and tell me what gives.”  Allie hesitated, and Georgia ambled over, feeling the old aches in her hips and spine even as she lowered herself slowly onto the rug. The spare controller was by Allie’s knee, and Georgia managed to snatch it up without too much wincing.

Allie tapped her own control, resetting the game for two players without a word.  On screen, the scene flashed, some random rally game, set in idealized locations and full to the brim of bullshit machismo and misogyny.  Georgia frowned at the scantily clad female NPC that sashayed out to wave the start of the race, but tapped the buttons to rev her car ready.

Georgia had good reflexes, but Allie was almost predicting the game.  It was a distraction, Georgia knew, a way for Allie to keep fingers and eyes busy as her mind worried at the problem.  So Georgia concentrated on not skidding out on the turns and waited.

It wasn’t too long ago that Allie would be talking by the first lap.  Now it took three races, Georgia’s eyes burning and back aching from sitting on the floor, before Allie spoke.  “School sends out results tomorrow. Well, today,” she amended, not even blinking as she shifted virtual gear and skidded a perfect arc through a hairpin turn.

“You worried about a grade?” Georgia asked.  She’d barely scraped through her final few years, too busy scraping microseconds off her race time to care much about algebra and english lit.

There was no reply, and Georgia forced herself to focus on the race, not stare at her sister’s profile.  “Georgia, I did the advanced course.  I have enough credits to graduate if I want, assuming I passed everything.”

Georgia blinked, then hoped Allie hadn’t noticed.  She didn’t know Allie was that far along.

How had she not known?

“And I know some good schools offer programs that I could continue on taking at a distance, but…”

And suddenly Georgia knew why Allie was still awake at 3am.  She paused the game, dropping her controller and rolling onto her knees in one movement.  “Alana,” she said seriously, grabbing her sister by the shoulders.  “If you want to go away to college, you go.  You hear me?”

Allie’s face was screwed up, her brow furrowed like she was fighting tears, and she looked too young to be discussing colleges.

Then again, she looked too young to be flying rockets and going on rescues.   They’d all done too much growing up these last few years.  “I…” Allie admitted slowly.  “I don’t want to leave you shorthanded.”

“We’ll manage,” Georgia said shortly, not sure it was a promise they could keep.  “Allie, if you want this, you should go.”

Allie exhaled slowly, like it was a fight for control.  “What if I go and something happens….” The _again_  went unsaid.

Georgia pulled her sister in close, burying her nose in Allie’s flowing hair.  “What if you stay and nothing happens?  Come on, Allie,” she added, brushing a kiss to Allie’s jaw.  “Give us a chance to be the embarrassing family moving you into the dorms.”  That at last got a laugh out of Allie, wet and stuffy and honest.

“I might have failed physics.  I totally half-assed my last project.”

Georgia frowned.  “Is this the one Jane said she gave you a little help with?”  At Allie’s little nod, Georgia laughed and flung her arm around Allie’s slim shoulders.  “Then trust me, kid.  You passed.”

Allie leaned heavily into Georgia’s side, just breathing for a moment.  “Georgie?” Allie finally asked, voice barely a whisper.  “If…will you come with me when I tell Scarlet?”

Georgia reached for Allie’s hand and carefully entwined their fingers.  “Littlest sister,” she said like a vow.  “I’ll be there every step of the way.”


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bacon requested: Jeff and Scarlet "I'm so proud of you kid"

“Your father must have been so proud of you and your sisters.”

Scarlet felt her professional smile freeze and lock, every muscle going rigid so that that curve of her lips carved like a knife.

The bright lights of the studio beat like the sun, her chic designer suit too tight and too constricting, squeezing her ribs and digging into her shoulders and armpits and neck.

Her father was proud; she had to believe that, like she had to believe they’d all come home, that her little family will still be there tomorrow.  He’d said the words so rarely, but Scarlet read them in every gesture, every interaction, every moment he’d trusted her judgement or backed her play.

She was forgetting what his voice sounded like, that warm burr it got when he said her name like it, like she, was something amazing.

The interviewer was staring at her, the studio audience leaning forward like they could physically suck the sound out of her.  “Well, I hope we’re still making him proud now,” she managed, finishing out the rest of the interview with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

Allie was waiting for her in the dressing room, sat on the uncomfortable sofa next to old jeans and a soft hoodie.  “Good interview,” Allie said.

Scarlet had been meaning to teach the kid a poker face.  “I hate these puff pieces,” she grumbled, heading for the dressing table and the makeup remover.  Her eyes felt almost drenched in motor oil.  “At least the business news ask questions about what we’re making, not why we’re not dating.”

Speedy was always too quick, always racing ahead.  “Yeah, how dare you not have a personal life.”

Scarlet shot her a betrayed look in the reflection.  Allie just laughed it off as she came over, her hands heavy as they kneaded Scarlet’s tight shoulders.   “Also, you are a definitely making him proud.”

“You think so,” Scarlet asked, keeping her eyes on the array of makeup scattered across the counter.

Allie leaned in, her hair brushing Scarlet’s cheek.  “I know so.  And you know how?  Because I am.”  She pressed a soft kiss to Scarlet’s cheek.  “Now get dressed,” she added, stepping back like Scarlet wasn’t shattering into a million pieces in the chair.  “You promised me burgers.  I’ll wait for you outside.”

Scarlet managed to wait until the door closed before she burst into exhausted tears.


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nav requested: georgia and jane making stupid side bets on everything. jane making dumb bets with georgie to keep her alert and concentrating.

“Bet you ten doughnuts you can’t make that.”

Jane bobbed in her sphere, eyes on Georgia’s vitals, as her offer was considered.  “Iced or jelly?”

Georgia’s temperature was shifting from _worrying_  to _alert_.  But Two was deep inland and inundated with her own rescue, and One was off flight status.  It was up to them.  Georgia got herself down, she’d have to get herself up. “Bearclaws.”

“Fucking deal,” Georgia slurred into her comm.  “Watch this, fairycakes.”

On the zoomed in scanner display, Four’s little golden icon lurched and jumped, rising up a few more meters as Georgia swam from her little resting point up to a crag higher in the reef.

“I’ll add in a pound of those ridiculous artisan-roasted coffee beans if you make it all the way up the funnel in one go.”  It was hard to keep the stress out of her voice, but Jane had too much practice.

“The Italian ones?”

“That don’t let you order online but make you come to the shop like a neanderthal,” Jane confirmed.

Georgia’s breathing was loud in her helmet, edging towards hyperventilation.  But they needed her higher.  On her other channel, the coast guard captain acknowledged readiness to re-acquire surfacing diver.  There was a hyperbaric chamber at the nearest port, and she already had them on standby for potential nitrogen narcosis.  Jane copied their position with a curt command before flipping back to Georgia.  “No welching, or I’ll come up there,” Georgia was saying, even her voice woozy.  This was echoed by her yell of delight as she lined up her approach and hit the jets.

Jane almost rolled with relief as Georgia cleared the tangled rocks of the collapsed reef bed and sailed up into clear water.  “Hey Georgia,” she said playfully, eyes glued on the golden dot in hazy electronic blue.  “Double or nothing you can’t get to that boat that’s pinging you before Virginia finishes her rescue.

“Easy,” Georgia drawled, sounding tired.  “I’ll come up right between them.”

Jane closed her eyes – she wasn’t a diver, but she knew enough to know double vision was a bad sign.  Her fingers tapped out an update to the med team at port, flashing them Georgia’s suit vitals.  “Hey Janie, they’re throwing me a rope.”

“Take it, idiot.  That’s what ropes are for,” Jane quipped, almost biting into her gloves.

“Wow, nice boat, so shiny….”

Georgia’s running drunk commentary was cut off by the coast guard captain.  “International Rescue?  We have your diver.  And telemetry confirms, the pipe is secure, hazard dealt with.”

Jane straightened up, nodding despite the audio-only connection.  “Acknowledged.  Dive med team are waiting, you are cleared for maximum speed through the channel.”

As the lines clicked closed, leaving only the steady beat of Georgia’s heart on the display, Jane let herself breath out slowly.  Only when her eyes were dry and her voice steady did she reach for the comms once more.  “Lady Penelope?  I have a mission for you, but first - how long would it take you to get to Italy?”


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @navigatorsnorth flailed in chat at me after this[ reblog ](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/159234538758/preludeinz-muserpt-cuddly-platonic-ish)and asked for a few things, starting “ Literally anybody @ Georgia “are you even wearing pants??””

Brains was still getting used to Jeff’s sprawling home.  It felt strange to be living in with the boss, but the project was an almost twenty-four hour obsession at this point.  Brains checked his figures as he walked up the stairs and down the short back hallway into the main area.  

“Oh hey, Brains, right?”  He looked up from his tablet at the sound of his name, and promptly  walked into the wall in a desperate attempt to avert his eyes.

“Y-yes…” The scientific curiousity in him just had to take over, it couldn’t leave it at that.  “A-are you even w-wearing pants?”

“Pants are a sign of conformity to the man.  Ladies should let it all hang free!” Brains very carefully did not look over; he focused on getting his stuff collected and getting _out_ of there before the boss found them.

But Jeff Tracy had to walk in seventeen seconds later, just in time to see his new engineer kneeling, clutching his bruised nose with one hand as he tried to scrape up the spray of notes, as his teenaged daughter lounged half-dressed on the couch.

As Jeff sighed, Brains was sure his new employment had just been terminated.  But Jeff just rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “Georgia, what’s the rule?”

“Be fabulous and take no prisoners?” she chirped from a direction Brains was very carefully not looking.

Jeff sighed again, but he sounded almost amused.  “I was thinking more the rule about wearing pants in the common areas.  Shoo, go on, you’re breaking my engineer.”

Brains kept his eyes studiously on the carpet as he gathered up his things.  Jeff’s shoes appeared at the edge of vision.  “S-s-sorry, sir.”

Jeff crouched down, gathering up the last few scattered pieces.  “It’s me who should be apologizing for not warning you that Cyclone Georgia’s home.  Come on,” he added briskly as he hauled Brains upright.  “Virginia’s also home, and I’ve asked her to attend this meeting.  Have you two met yet?”

“No sir,” Brain managed quietly.

Jeff just clapped him on the back.  “I think you’ll like her.  One hell of an engineer, that kid,” he said proudly.  There was a pause.  “And,” Jeff added.  “I can pretty much guarantee you’ll never see her pants-less.”


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked for: Georgia and Penny and "I uh, own a lot of coloured sneakers?"

“Just let me get changed.”

Penny waved Georgia on, even though she was already halfway up the stairs.  “Please do.”

Georgia paused, leaning over the railing until her feet almost left the step. “Was that a not-so-subtle pun about the fact that I’ve just done an fourteen-hour deep sea dive rescue and yet am still going to get freshened up to take my lady out to dinner as promised?”

Penny couldn’t stop her smile for all the tea in the world.  “Emphasis on the freshen.”

Georgia rocked back onto her feet and continued up the stairs.  “You love my hard work stink,” she called out, skipping up the steps with more energy than Penny would has expected after the day Georgia had just had.  “Admit it, my Ladyship.  Oh.”  Georgia ducked back quickly.  “Do me a favour and find something appropriate for whatever you’ve got planned?”  She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of one of the many doors of the suite. “There should still be some stuff through there.”

Penny waited until she heard the shower start up before she turned and began trying doors until she found one that led to a walk-in closet. She was used to privilege, but the penthouse at the TI Tower really was something else.

The carpet was thick enough that Penny had to kick off her heels as she stepped forward.  Automatic lighting turned on, revealing what seemed like miles of shelves and cupboards and racks of clothing.

Squaring her shoulders, Penny stepped forward and began flicking through outfits.  She recognized several from Scarlet’s not-infrequent public appearances, nestled alongside many variations on the sharp black business suit and worn out old jeans that wouldn’t be out of place on the farm back in Kansas.

There was no order that she could discern as she yanked open another door.  “Oh my,” she breathed as the lights automatically flicked on to reveal the contents.

She hadn’t moved when the sound of footsteps came down the stairs to be almost swallowed by the thick carpeting. “Pen?  Find anything?  Please nothing of Scarlet’s, she’s freakishly tall.”  Georgia’s self-propelling one-sided conversation skidded to a halt as she stepped up next to where Penny was still staring, aghast.  “Ah, yeah.  Forgot this was where they lived.  Not really fine dining appropriate, are they Pen?”

Georgia turned away to start rummaging through a rack as Penny shook her head to clear her thoughts.  “I didn’t realize they made them in this many colours?”  Emboldened by Georgia’s presence, Penny lifted a particularly hot pink sneaker out of the pile.

Georgia laughed, turning around as she held up a dress against her towel-wrapped torso.  “Honey, they’ll make them in any colour you want if you ask nicely and have a black Amex.  Speaking of, this one…” one dress was whipped away and a racy red number took its place.  “Or party time?”

Penny barely glanced at her.  “Black. The red will clash with my dress.”  In her hands, she turned the sneaker around.  “So, you’re saying I could get a pair made in, say… pink?”

“Darling,” Georgia said, dropping her towel.  The sound of wet terry hitting the carpet was enough to recapture Penny’s attention.  “Are you dropping me hints for what you want for your birthday?”  Penny let herself admire the movement of muscle and marked skin as Georgia slithered into the slinky black dress.

“Perhaps.”  Penny tossed the sneaker back onto the pile and stepped in close to Georgia.  “Speaking of hints, you might want to wear underwear if you are planning on taking me out to dinner at a Michelin star restaurant?”

Georgia pecked a kiss to Penny’s lips. “Darling?  Where’s the fun in that.”  

Penny matched Georgia’s wicked grin with  one of her own.  “Fun? You’re about two hours and a stiff drink away from falling on your face and sleeping for a week.”

Georgia shrugged but didn’t deny it.  “Until then, we can have fun.”  Penny turned and dug out the least garish pair of sneakers she could find. “Uh, Pen? With this dress?”

“Go on,” Penny teased.  “Have some fun.”

The photos of Georgia, on Penny’s arm in a slinky little black dress and purple high tops made all the society pages and possibly started a fashion trend.

Penny sipped her tea and put aside the best of the paparazzi photographs before she turned to the business section.  Next to her in the bed, Georgia twitched but continued to sleep the sleep of the dead.

Penny knew she’d get a kick out of it when she woke up.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked for: Scarlet and letters from home

All through basic and boot and officer school, Scarlet knew people were waiting for her privilege to kick in.

She could see it, in the stares that never quite went away and the whispers that died as soon as she entered the room.

So what her family was worth a small country’s GDP?  It wasn’t her money.  It was invested, in plant and capital and a workforce and R&D and a thousand other places that weren’t her pocket.

What was in her pocket was an military ID card and her flight training manual. She kept her head down and worked, earning a rank and her flight patch the same way everyone else did.

Even so, when it was announced her unit was being deployed overseas, all eyes in the room seemed to turn to her like it was choreographed.

But there were some privileges being her father’s daughter conferred, and one of them was knowing how to keep her composure when it seemed all eyes were staring at her.  “When do we ship out, sir?” she asked, and the room fell back onto track.

The base became home faster than she expected, for all that it was dry and dusty and somehow seemed to be 90% temporary structures that had been there forty years.  They hadn’t the rank or reputation as a unit yet to get one of the plush postings – everyone did their time in purgatory, and hers featured corrugated tin roofs, rations that were fresh before the Global Conflict and a wifi connection that took an hour to send a text.

“Tracy.”  Scarlet looked up from the ratty paperback she’d taken from the pile that circulated the base until they fell apart or were used as TP by those in particularly desperate straits.  “Mail.”

The thick envelope smelled of the sea.  Slitting the seal allowed a dozen separate pages to slither out, different hands written on different stationary.  There was Jane’s rapid, slashing hand and Virginia’s patient, flowing script.  Grandma’s letters were tiny and even, and her dad’s bold and big.  There was a photo of Georgia, wet from the pool and beaming as she held up another medal, and a photograph from Jane’s window across the campus in the fall.

Scarlet was grateful for her private bunk, as tiny as it was.  Wiping her eyes with the heel of her dusty palm, she spread the letters all over the bed and let herself savour the sense of her family in the pages before she settled down to read their thoughts and ideas, their stories and jokes and anecdotes.

Perhaps, she thought as she pinned up Georgia’s picture to her wall, there was a privilege in being a Tracy daughter after all.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked:  
> Jane and Allie and main sequence stars

_In general, the more massive a star is, the shorter its lifespan on the main sequence. More massive stars can explode as a supernova, or collapse directly into a black hole._

Allie’s flicking through her textbook, a secondhand gift from Jane from years ago.  Her eye keeps being drawn to this part, the spine broken so that she kept returning to the circled paragraph on the lower third of the page

The words were dry statements, black ink on a white page older than Allie is herself.  But somehow, ironically, they had a gravity all their own.

_stars can explode_

Jane herself is still asleep, a late anomaly in a house of early risers.  Allie is nominally on down time herself, the rules governing space rescues forcing her back onto the couch even as every other Thunderbird left the island.

Someone should wait for Jane anyway.  She shouldn’t wake up alone here too.

Allie lets the book flop on her lap, the broken spine making the covers flap like a beached birds’ wings.

_or collapse directly_

Jane hadn’t even come down all that late; after dinner, but grandma had loudly announced her plans to cook a ‘traditional Sunday roast’ so perhaps there was nothing sinister there.  She’d been down in time for a slice of Virginia’s famous-on-this-island apple pie, and she and Scarlet hadn’t even been in private after-dinner conference all that long, comparatively.

Allie had peeked in half an hour ago, but Jane was still sleeping the sleep of the dead, the mug of coffee grandma had taken up at breakfast now stone-cold on the dresser.

It was closer to noon than dawn now, and Allie wasn’t sure what to do.

_into a black hole_

Jane worked hard; Allie had peeked at the monthly reports, tallied up all the little things that Jane did without complaint, without comment even.  A thousand tiny miracles in the dark that they never got to see.

The circles under her eyes had been hard to ignore, even in holo, though they were now all accustomed to pretending they couldn’t see how tired they were all feeling.

Allie gnawed on her thumbnail, her eyes looking at but not seeing the sweep of colour of the Hertzsprung-Russell diagram on the opposite page.

Maybe she should start on lunch, something that had never seen the inside of a vacuum seal or a tinfoil pouch.

“Allie?”

She started, her book flopping out of her lap like a dead thing.  “Hey, Janie,” Allie cooed, scrambling to gather her book, her thoughts, her legs.

Jane just smiled at her tumble upright.  “Man, I feel like Sleeping Beauty.” She rolled her neck, the tendons at her throat standing out under the too-loose collar of her sleep-shirt.  “Everyone out?”

Allie nodded, taking in Jane’s frown, the half-shift to ‘work’ mode in the blink of an eye.  “Scarlet’s got her GDF meeting, and Georgia and Ginny are just giving a tanker with a hull tear a helping hand to port.  Should be back soon.  Was gonna make lunch.”

The keenness of the space monitor is still hovering around Jane’s head like a halo, and Allie let’s impulse be her guide as she grabs Jane’s hand.  Her fingers are cold despite the tropical heat, and Allie wonders if it’s her imagination that she can still feel the indents of Jane’s uniform on her skin.  “Come tell me stories of thrilling heroics as I cook,” Allie finishes, giving Jane a little tug.

“Sandwiches are cooking? Alright!” Jane’s voice was a shade off a laugh as Allie gave her another tug, hard enough to pull her a step forward.  “Though I don’t have much in the way of thrilling heroics.  That’s Scarlet and Georgia’s territory.”

Allie shoved Jane towards the stools lining the counter, and tried not to think of the thick monthly report sitting, unregarded, in Scarlet’s monthly queue.  “I don’t know,” Allie quipped, her tongue feeling larger than her mouth.  “I hear you’re kind of a big shot among the zero-g set.”

Jane’s movements are slow, careful, unused to air resistance and inertia.  She slides onto the stool like her muscles are aching, like someone much older than their early twenties.  “I’ll take your word for it, Speedy.  Is there coffee?”

“I’ll get it,” Allie said, too quickly. She turned away, fidgeting with the coffee machine so Jane couldn’t see her face until she was ready once more.

_the more massive the star, the shorter its lifespan_


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virginia + Scarlet + "excuse you I am /full/ of good ideas"

The too-high heels of Virginia’s strappy shoes were clattering together loudly as she swung her arm.  Beneath her stocking-ed feet, the cobbles were rain-slick and cold.  “So, are we going to get all the way to Washington Square before you admit this was stupid and we’re lost?”

“We’re not lost, we’re temporarily discomb-comb-” Scarlet sighed and leaned against a tree to finally undo her own heels.  Virginia waited patiently as Scarlet stepped out, one and two, her height dropping back to a difference between them that felt more familiar.  “Fine, we’re lost, are you happy?”

“Deliriously,” Virginia hiccuped.  She’d paced herself all night, well aware they were there representing _the company_ , but the champagne had been the good stuff, and it had been a long time between drinks.  Her tolerance for booze was obviously in her boots.  Stockings.  Whatever.  “What possessed you to dismiss the driver and _walk_?”

“It was a good idea.  Is.”  Scarlet frowned at the heels dangling from her fingers so long that Virginia had to reach over and take them off her.  “It was too stuffy.  We need fresh air.”

Virginia glanced up and down the street, but the rain and the late hour meant they had it all to themselves.  “Well, we’re getting plenty of that.”

“Come on Ginny,” Scarlet cooed, almost swaying on the spot.  “Where’s your sense of adventure.”

Virginia had to laugh at Scarlet’s puppy dog eyes.  “How much did you drink?” she laughed.

Scarlet shrugged, and Virginia adjusted her grip so that both pairs of shoes were in one fist before she held out her other arm.  Scarlet almost fell in against Virginia’s side, and they set off, a slightly lop-sided stagger to their walk.  “Things are good right now,” Scarlet said suddenly as Virginia tried to read the name of the street on the high sign.  “Aren’t they?  They are, right?”

“Peachy keen, Red,” Virginia sing-songed, trying to think past the bubbles in her brain to remember if Leroy Street was above or below where they needed to be.

Scarlet’s grip was surprisingly strong on Virginia’s forearm, her eyes punch-drunk and bright under the washed out street lights.  “We’d make dad proud, right?” she asked with an intensity that was at odds with the way she was almost swaying on her feet.

Ginny couldn’t have stopped herself from pressing a kiss to her sister’s temple for all the money in the world.  “He’d be fit to burst,” she told her sincerely.

“I hope so,” Scarlet mumbled, dropping her head to rest tiredly on Virginia’s shoulder.  “I hope it’s enough.”

Virginia curled in, pressing her cheek to Scarlet’s hair.  “It is, Red.  It really is.”

Scarlet sighed, and Virginia wondered if she’d remember this in the morning.  Next to them, the row of buildings gave way to a small park, little more than a patch of community grass, a slide and swing.

Scarlet peeled off and weaved over to sit on the bottom of the swing. Virginia followed slowly, savouring the feel of grass under her feet.  “Ginny, can I tell you a secret?”

The base of the slide was layered with the squishy fat mats that Virginia remembered from her own childhood on swings and slides.  They made a surprisingly comfortable place to flop down, heedless of the way her dress rode up her thighs.  One of the shoes thumped and rolled off into the shadows, and Virginia let it go.  “Of course, always.”

Scarlet’s knees were drawn together, the sparkling rings and bracelet of the hands wrapped around her knees at odds with her stocking-clad feet.  “After dad…after that, we nearly lost the company.”

And Virginia was suddenly, painfully sober.  “What?”

Scarlet nodded, a rapid, childish bob of her head.  “A few people were calling for ‘more mature leadership.’”  The air quotes were clanging in the dark.  “I think I’ve got it sorted, some of dad’s oldest execs are on my side now, but every time I go to these things, every board meeting and inspection, I can see them looking and they don’t see me.  They see not-dad.  And I don’t think I can fix that.”

There was a puddle by Virginia’s hand, and she flicked her fingers through the water to try and focus her thoughts.  “Maybe you don’t have to?”

Scarlet flopped backwards with a sigh, the metal plate of the slide ringing with the impact.  “It’s his name on the side of the building.”

“Your name too,” Virginia pointed out cautiously.

Scarlet was mostly shadows.  “In my head, I keep hearing dad say that, did you know?  All my little mental pep talks, they’re all in his voice.”

Virginia laughed.  “Me too.”  Scarlet sat up, too fast, and slithered down off the edge of the slide in an ungainly heap.  “You okay?” Virginia laughed.

Scarlet started laughing, a drunk, slightly hysterical beat to it.  “I will be.  Thanks for letting me vent.”

Virginia laid back, heedless of the damp seeping in through the expensive fabric, more concerned with the way the mood was shifting and changing between them like a snake.  Above them, the clouds were starting to clear, and through the gaps, Virginia could see stars, the bright track of a satellite.  “Hey look,” she said, pointing.  “Jane.”

“Wrong orbit.”

Virginia blinked and filed away that, even drunk and exhausted, Scarlet still knew that.  “Wave anyway, heathen.”

That got another, sweeter laugh out of her sister, one hand flapping obediently in the air.  “Hey Ginny?  Thanks for walking with me.”

Her toes found Scarlet’s knee and gave them a fond poke.  “You were right, Red.  This was a good idea.”

Scarlet’s fist punched the night.  “Yes. Vindicated.”

Virginia threw a shoe at her head.  

Ten minutes later, still down one shoe, the two sisters resumed walking for home.


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked:  
> Georgia and Jane, "the Dewey decimal system is full of crap"

Georgia had let herself in to Jane’s room to wake her up, and seemed in no hurry to leave.  “I knew you were a nerd, but why didn’t I know you were this much of a nerd?”

Jane cracked one eyelid to see Georgia gazing, impressed, along the long rows of bookshelves built into the walls of Jane’s room.  “Because you don’t pay attention to anything without gills or a truly terrifying number of tentacles?” Jane hazarded, feeling gummed up and stiff after sleeping too long.

“An aquarium would really bring the room together,” Georgia pointed out just to hear Jane groan.  “But seriously, paper books?”

Jane forced herself up into sitting, letting the covers pool around her waist.  “Don’t touch,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms.

Georgia held up her hands and backed away, over-dramatic and arch.  “Ma’am, yes ma’am,” she snarked.  “Like I could find anything your weird organisation system you’ve got going on here.”

Jane sighed, rolling her neck against the worst of the knots.  “It’s Dewey Decimal, not witchcraft.”

Georgia made the kind of face she usually reserved for grandma’s baking.  “Isn’t that overkill, even for you?”

“It makes things easier to find.”

Georgia jumped and landed on her knees on the end of Jane’s narrow bed, making the mattress shake like jelly. “It’s full of crap,” she said like she actually had an opinion.

Jane pointed a sharp finger at the door.  “Out.  And if I come back one day and my books have been moved,” she added as Georgia rolled sullenly off her bed.  “There will be no mercy and no quarter.”

Georgia grinned, waggling her eyebrows.  “Sounds like a challenge.”

Jane threw a pillow at the space where Georgia’s head had been, Georgia’s laugh echoing down the corridors.

Jane waited until she was sure Georgia was gone before she let herself smile.


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked:  
> Allie's anonymous radio chats with the zero g set (bonus points for second hand accounts of Jane)

There were more direct ways to talk, but those were governed by strict rules and protocols.

Transceivers were an old tech, but they were reliable and so near everything in orbit had one tucked away on board.  Somewhere along the line, the pattern had evolved to use them as the ultimate backchannel – nameless, faceless, just a random group of bored space cadets and hobbyists and the occasional idle comms officer, all just shooting the shit and talking crap in the long lulls of boredom that were a feature of working in space.

Her father had shown her how to use his old ham radio kit one rainy, slow day to talk to Uncle Lee in orbit.

It had been her first taste of space.

Her father’s kit was hers now, modded and updated and configured, a set of oddly squat grey boxes safely tucked away in her room.

It’s raining on the island now, has been for days. The four island-based sisters have been giving each other a wide berth, cabin fever gnawing nerves raw.

Allie checks the lock on her door, for all that it enrages Scarlet to find her way barred.  But this was for Allie alone; something that reminded her of dad, of a world beyond their little bubble of family and duty.

Reciting the words to announce her presence are like a litany, as close as she gets these days to prayer.  There’s chatter on the air tonight, and the earth has turned to let her island-based receivers pick up most of it.  The reason becomes clear soon enough – a space walk that nearly turned into a funeral, malfunctioning kit and an inexperienced crew making all the wrong calls.

As is the way among astronauts, they’re dissecting the calls, the decisions made and the options ignored.  It’s not come-uppance.  It’s practice, for the day they find themselves alone and gasping in the dark.  What call would you make?  Would you have done it differently?  Would it have mattered?

Allie’s ears perk.  “Say again, Astropuppy?” she says into the mic, the click of channels opening and closing loud in her headphones.

The story comes out in bits, a fragment here, a story cut off by changing lines of sight on the signal only to be picked up by another operator.  But Allie is good at working with incomplete information.  And the core details are consistent no matter who was speaking.

A figure in a yellow rig, like wings, sweeping into the rescue; a crew suddenly locked out of their systems, their commands overridden and rewritten, a disaster swinging from inevitable to avoidable.

Allie bit her lip; she wasn’t International Rescue here, just another anonymous handle speaking in the dark.  But Allie recognized her sister, and more importantly, recognized better than most the recklessness of the maneuver.

She’d been on the island all day; there had been no calls, no “International Rescue, we have a situation” in Jane’s calm, clear tones.

No notification, as per their SOP, that Jane was going EVA.

“Our own little guardian angel rides again,” a new voice was laughing, triggering a tsunami of stories, of a hand in the dark, a voice answering their cries for help, a sudden call that drew attention to a disaster no-one else saw looming.

Allie sat, legs folded, clutching a pillow to her chest, and watched the rain slide down the glass as she listened to the voice from the dark.


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked:
> 
> V and Grandma and "I can actually cook you know"

“But you shouldn’t have to, kiddo,” Grandma repeats for what feels like the thousandth time.

Virginia focused on the bowl in her hands, the way the egg whites were whipping into soft peaks.  “But I want to,” she replied for the thousandth and first.

Finally, finally, Grandma stopped fluttering.  Her stare was still almost tangible as Virginia mixed and whipped and poured.  “You really are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

Virginia slid the pan into the oven before turning to smile at her grandmother. “It relaxes me.  I wouldn’t want to do it every day, but now and then?” she shrugged, wiping her fingers of a dish towel.  “Yeah, I can cook.”

Grandma made a huffing noise that was part laugh, part disbelief.  “Well, kid, where you got that, I do not know.  We Tracy’s are good at many things, but cooking ain’t one of them.”

Virginia turned back to look in through the glass of the oven door.  It was better than looking at her grandma.  “Well, I’ve always been a little different from everyone else.”  

The half-smile reflected in the glass was still too raw, too fake, and Virginia let it fall away as she turned to tackle the dishes, her back resolutely to her grandma.

 

 


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked for: allie and georgia and “how many things can we stack on v while she sleeps"

Scarlet drifted up from the kitchen level, eyes scanning every flat surface. The housekeeping bots were pretty good at leaving her papers alone, but she couldn’t be exactly sure where she had left the highly secret and confidential folder.

The thought of having to explain to the board she had lost it like she once used to lose her English homework was a thought she didn’t even want to entertain.

She paused, one hand on the rail, feet split across stairs, as the sound of muffled giggling drifted down to her.

That was never a good sign.

Moving stealthily, Scarlet crested the stairs and stepped around the counter to peer into the lounge.

Allie and Georgia were like a mismatched pair of hobgoblins, fists in their mouths to stifle their giggling.

Scarlet let her feet clack on the floor. Two guilty faces snapped up to look at her.

Georgia recovered first, a finger across her lips even as she stepped back from her handiwork. Allie looked more worried, but she was fighting a smile as she retreated to the other set of steps to perch, knees to chest.

Virginia was sprawled on the couch next to Allie’s launch seat, breathing deep and regular, eyes closed. One of Kayo’s trashy novels was perched precariously on her belly.

It wasn’t the only thing. There were cups and a plate, complete with cutlery. There were three other books and the tacky statue that grandma kept on the shelves to hand out as a prize for some particularly bone-head decision.

Scarlet spotted her missing folder on Virginia’s knees. “Guys, she’s exhausted,” Scarlet whispered, though Virginia had been know to sleep like the dead when she was tired enough. 

“Exactly. Best time,” Georgia whispered back.

Scarlet lifted her folder with the deftness of a pickpocket. “If she kills you, I’ll say nice things at your funeral.”

Georgia’s face creased around her eyes with her stupidly cheesy grin. “See, you are the nice sister.”

Scarlet sighed, fighting a smile of her own. “I’ve gotta get this done,” was all she said, waving her folder. “Don’t make a mess, don’t disturb me with your death throes as V murders you.” Running her hand over Allie’s head as she passed by and up onto the main level, Scarlet glanced over dad’s desk for anything else she needed. Satisfied, Scarlet headed for the stairs, ignoring the way she could see out of the corner of her eye Allie creeping back towards a sleeping Virginia.

Scarlet’s foot was on the first step when she heard the chime and “Thunderbird Five to…” The rest was lost in a clatter of falling objects and Virginia’s sleep-startled swearing.

Grinning to herself, Scarlet headed back downstairs.


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
>  Georgia, Alana and, Police chase

Georgia didn’t want to say it, but there was more than an echo of dad in the way Scarlet was sat behind the big executive desk in the C-suite of Tracy Tower.  Especially as this wasn’t the first time Georgia had been hauled up on the rug in front of this desk.

Georgia grinned winningly, even as she sensed Allie wilting slightly on the rug beside her.  “So yeah, that’s what happened.”

Scarlet was rubbing her temple.  “Georgie,” she said slowly, in a voice that was hard for Georgia to gauge.  “We have drivers.  This is New York, you could have caught a cab.  If push comes to shove, I’m sure even you could manage the subway.  I know your ankle is still injured after last week’s rescue, but…” Scarlet sighed, a smile like she’d sucked a lemon as she turned to Georgia’s co-conspirator.  “Allie, what on earth did Georgia say to convince you to take out one of dad’s cars?”

Allie’s eyes were screwed shut.  “She said, “hey my ankle is still buggered, do you want to drive?”  Her voice tilted up at the end, turning the whole story into a question.

Scarlet’s got an elbow on her paperwork, her chin cupped in her hand. Her fingers are splayed over her face, obscuring her expression.  “To be honest, I’m just impressed you managed to find a stretch of road in the entire city uncongested enough to be picked up for _speeding_.”  Scarlet sighed, but Georgia caught the hint of a smile as Scarlet’s hand dropped down to lay across the desk.  “I’m just glad he let you off with a warning, given that Allie officially doesn’t have an actual _license_.”

“I’ve had the lesson?” Allie offered.  Georgia stomped her foot down, but it was too late.

Scarlet’s smirk turned evil.  “So you have.  Perhaps you need another, and Georgia, you obviously need a refresher.  Penny’s due this evening, I’ll see if Parker is free to offer you the benefit of his-” and Scarlet’s eyes were alight with malicious glee as she mimicked the older man’s tone.  “ _h-_ experience.”

Scarlet’s smirk turned into an actual evil laugh as Georgia groaned.  “In the meantime, the pair of you can wash and detail every car down there to help you think about what you’ve done.”

Georgia let Allie scurry ahead of her out of the office, so they were alone when Georgia paused at the door.  “Are you mad, Red?”

Scarlet looked up and sighed.  “Next time, let me hear it from you, and not a nice police officer.  That was…that wasn’t a nice surprise.  But no…” Scarlet’s shoulders slumped as she let out tension, becoming their sister once more.  “I’m not mad.  Though I’m surprised you took the Aston-Martin, I’d have picked you for something Italian.”

“Allie’s choice. I think she wanted something in any colour other than red, for once.”

A moment of silent understanding passed between them.  Georgia nodded, respectful and meaningful all at once, before she turned and half-ran to catch up with Allie by the elevators to face their punishment together.


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> psstttt... i read chapter 50 and 51 of Ladies night and have to ask... Georgie, Virginia and kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NPC kids get hurt in this chapter, so you may want to skip if that's not your thing

Kids and rescues went one of three ways:

Outcome number one: the day is saved, child safe in the arms of their family, everyone laughing with relief at any small thing.  Outcome number one was the best outcome, the one you snapped like a photograph for your memory, took out on the long, cold nights when you needed a reminder of why _International Rescue_  did what it did.

Outcome number two: a small figure, swallowed whole under the silvery shock blankets, legs too short to reach the end of the baseboard.  Outcome number two involved knowing to set the tiny body in the middle of a board balanced for an adult’s weight, so that when you lifted it all off the deck in the final rush for aid, you didn’t accidentally tip them out and compound the injury.  Outcome number two involved overinvested hours in waiting rooms, or a stiff drink and a quiet moment back on the island when there was nothing more to do but wait and see.

Outcome number three: a body bag, laid flat for far too much of its length before the too-small lump pushed out the rigid, oily plastic.

Outcome number three was rare.  But it happened.

Virginia leaned against the strut of her Bird, head tilted back slightly to feel the sun on her face.  It was a lovely day, the kind of day when kids would leave at dawn to run and play and explore, only to return at dusk.

In any other of context, three out of four wasn’t bad.  But here, that meant two to their parents, and one to hospital but expected to make a full recovery. It was the one to the morgue that was weighing heavily on her conscience.

Intellectually, she knew there was nothing more they could have done.  The boy was dead as soon as the limestone gave way and he fell into the sinkhole.  The waves were surging and bashing against the stone like a giant washing machine, the drop alone enough to break a body that small.  The water took care of the rest.

Virginia had helped pulled him out.  She had to believe that gash on his skull, bright red under flaxen hair, had knocked him out first.

She had to.

Over by the cordon, Georgia was standing tall in her uniform blue, next to the local services.  Together, they’re talking quietly to two people in clothes more suitable for a beach holiday than this horror scene.  Even as Virginia watched, Georgia’s hand gently touched the woman’s shoulder.

At this distance, Virginia couldn’t hear the words; it just looked like the contact was electric, sending the woman crumpling to her knees, a wail of grief loud over the noise of rescuers and vehicles and the constant pounding of the surf.

Virginia was the senior responder, officially.  Technically, it should have been her standing there, explaining in soft tones and with carefully chosen words why her son was not returning home, tonight or ever.

Virginia could do a great many things.  But when it came to times like this, Georgia volunteered before Virginia could even swallow the dryness out of her mouth, every time.

Georgia’s face was impassive as she walked slowly back to Two, her pace appropriate for the grief that was almost palpable in the air.  “Are you okay?” Virginia managed to ask.

“It’s never easy,” is Georgia’s only reply, and it’s not a yes and it’s not a no.  It’s just what it is.

They pack up silently, clearing the scene like professionals untouched and unmoved by the sobs being carried to them on the sea breeze.

The roar of Two’s VTOLs drowns out all noise.

They’re halfway back to the Island when Georgia speaks again.  “I remember, like, my second time out,” she says, apropos of nothing.   Her voice seems startling loud in the cockpit somehow.  Georgia seems to hear it, because she continues in a whisper. “Climbing accident. No-one’s fault, fatigue on a line. One fatality.” She sighs, but Virginia keeps her eyes focused over the nose of her Bird.  Even so, out of the corner of her eye she can see the twitch of Georgia’s boots where she’s got them propped up on the dash.  “A kid, maybe ten.  First time out climbing.  And Dad was calm.  He got everyone else to safety, broke the news to the kids’ mother.  Did everything right.”

The silence drags on so long Virginia finally glances over.  “And?”

“He lands us back home, and breaks down crying, right there on the tarmac.  Engine hasn’t even finished winding down yet.”  Georgia made a noise that was part-laugh, part-sigh.  “And he tells me…shit…” and that noise sounded more like a sob.  

“Georgia…?” Virginia’s hands are already finding the autopilot, pushing back the yoke so she could spin her seat.

“No, you remember, the way Dad used to use his astronaut voice when he was telling you really raw shit?  Well, he tells me, when he has to do that, break the news, he always remembered when I was in hospital, those first few days.  He said…” Georgia’s boots swing down to land with two soft thuds on the deck.  “He said all he wanted was for someone to help him make sense of a world that had suddenly broke.  So when he had to do it, he remembered how it felt when the world broke.  That he didn’t want someone’s shoulder to cry on, or fake condolences.  He just needed an anchor that the world wasn’t as broken as it seemed.  So that’s what he tries to be, when it’s his turn to go to a parent and tell them their kid is gone ”  She sighed, finally looking up to Georgia. Her eyes were red-rimmed.  “He never said it never gets easier, to be an anchor.”

Virginia’s on her feet, hauling Georgia up and into a hug so fast that Georgia squeaked.  But Georgia pushed her head down, almost burrowing in under Virginia’s arm.  Her next words are muffled, Georgia’s face pressed into Virginia’s uniform.  “They’re so…their faces, Ginny.  They’re not just broken, they’re _destroyed_.  I remember that feeling with Dad.  I couldn’t imagine if it was my _kid_.”

Virginia’s mouth is dry again, the swallow almost painful.  “I can imagine it,” she admitted, voice hoarse and breathy and faint. “I think that’s almost worse.”


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked:
> 
> You do realise that now I've caught up on Ladies Night, I am going to bombard you with asks? Allie, Virginia, and fixing something

Scarlet was the authorised Big Sister, the one who you went to about the bullies and the nightmares and all the problems that seem all too big when you are very small.  Scarlet was practical solutions and an arm thrown casually over Allie’s skinny shoulders as if to scream to the world ‘this one is ours.’

Jane was the soul sister, the one Allie shared knowledge and amazement and adventure, for all that Jane seemed so out of this world, so different from the rest of them, the certified genius in every field she entered, that sometimes Allie had to pinch herself to remind herself that she was, indeed, related to Jane by blood and iron and starstuff.

Georgia was the actual sister, a fellow member of the ‘round two of making babies’ club.  Georgia was shenanigans and late-night video-game-and-junkfood marathons and good advice from someone who had just cleared whatever hurdle Allie was facing.

Virginia was the fixer.

There was nothing that Allie has broken yet that Virginia couldn’t repair.  It was Virginia’s stitches on Beary Bear’s fuzzy arm, and Virginia’s welds on that patch on the wing that Allie dinged the first time she’d been left alone to taxi the jet into the hangar.  Virginia mended clothes torn in adventurous games, and vases knocked over after Allie came in too fast and skidded on her socks across the wooden floor.

It’s Virginia walking beside her now, silent except for her even breathing and the crunch of her boots on the concrete path.

Allie’s in heels, and its the closest they’ve come yet to being at a height.  “Where are we going?” she asked, hating how watery her voice sounded, the sniff where punctuation should have been.

“Not far now, Speedy,” is Virginia’s reply.  “Woah, steady” she breathed as an uneven paving stone has Allie tottering in her heels.  Virginia’s forearm is strong and warm under Allie’s fingers, and she keeps her hold even as she found her balance once more.  “There you go.”  They walk on, the street lights dimming as they cross another block, heading to an unremarkable strip of small stores ringing an over-bright parking lot.

“I knew coming was a bad idea,” Allie muttered, the words swirling around her brain until they found release.

“You coming wasn’t the bad idea, kiddo,” Virginia replied calmly.  “Ah, here we are.  Good old GPS, never steers me wrong.”

Allie let Virginia’s prattle glide her up and through the doors.  Inside, there was a chill in the air, the scent of cream and chocolate.  “Ice cream?” Allie asked.

“The people on the internet say that the sundaes here are the _best_ ,” Viriginia’s smile was broad and easy as she stepped up to the counter.  Allie hung back, only nodding at Gin’s “banana split as usual, kiddo?”

They’re drawing glances as they slide onto stools at the counter looking out the window over the handful of cars in the lot.  Virginia’s jeans, band shirt and boots are fine; it’s Allie’s thousand dollar dress and silvery heels that are getting them attention.

Allie sighed, and reached up to unpick the pins holding her chignon in place.  Virginia seemed to be staring out at the cars, the passing traffic, unconcerned as Allie laid pin after pin onto the counter until finally her hair dropped.  “Better?”

Allie nodded, fingers flashing as she rewound the length back into a thick braid.  “Was pulling,” she muttered like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

Virginia finally turned to watch her as she braided down the length, neat and even.  “I can’t believe you can do that without looking.”

That got an honest little smile as  Allie twisted off the end with one of the clips.  “Not all of us can rock the short hair look, sister.”

“Damn straight.” Virginia’s smile was confident and easy and all the things Allie wished she could be right now.  “But for what it’s worth, you looked real nice tonight.”

Right now she just felt like dirt.  “Ugh,” Allie groaned, letting her head drop down onto her folded arms.  “He said the exact same thing to me,” she muttered into her skin.  “And an hour later he let that bitch take him behind the bleachers.”  She sat up, exhaling hard.  “I’m a moron.”

Virginia’s not laughing at her, but the smile is too knowing for Allie’s liking. “He’s the moron here, Speedy, not you.  We may even be able to elevate him to dickhead, if we get a sympathetic judge.”  She leaned in, her hand warm on Allie’s bare shoulder.  “And since we’re judgy, judgy women, I say we slap dickhead on him so it sticks _forever_.”

Allie’s laugh was a little watery again.  “I didn’t even want to go to this stupid prom thing,” she moaned.

“So why did you?”  

Virginia’s looking out at the cars again, and it made it easy to speak to air.  “Um, he asked, I guess.  I’ve never…I thought it might…” Allie gritted her teeth.  “You and Brains always look so happy on date nights, I thought maybe this was…y’know.  A date.”  She winced, screwing her eyes shut.  “More fool me.”

Virginia does laugh, but it’s not at her, and that’s okay.  “Kiddo, every damn one of us has had a man try to play us.  You at least had the brains to slap his dickhead face and storm out like the fucking baby goddess you are.”

Allie’s laugh spluttered out of her in surprise.  “Ginny!”

Virginia’s smile creased around the edge of her eyes.  “It’s true though.”  She winked.  “I didn’t hear all the yelling, but that slap?” Virginia kissed her fingers in the air like a chef.  

Allie buried her face in her hands.  “I still can’t believe I did that.  What was I thinking?”

Virginia sat back, her eyes on the two sundaes being carried towards them by a young man in a blue striped apron.  “That you deserve better.  Like icecream.  Icecream makes it better.  Doesn’t it?” she asked the waiter.

“Yes maam. In fact, the only thing better-er,” he said with a wink that made Allie blush.  “Is extra whipped cream.  You ladies want me to bring some over?”

“Please,” Allie said, watching him leave.

Virginia licked her spoon as she watched her sister.  “I bet you _he_ wouldn’t disappear behind the bleaches with another girl.”

Allie punched her sister’s arm.  Virginia just laughed and ate the cherry off the top of her sundae.

Virginia really could fix anything.


	72. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> Penny, Georgia and flowers

Georgia was the most mercurial woman Penny has ever met.

Penny thought she had seen the major colours in Georgia’s spectrum – happy-go-lucky surfer girl, serious and competent medic, excited and focused deep diver – but those were just the preamble.

Once this _thing_  between them settled into a partnership, Penny was granted glimpses of deeper moods – reflective daughter of a lost king, grief-stricken rescuer too late to rescue, nervous and jittery and trying not to show it as she paraded before the shareholders in a sisterly show of strength.  Penny knew few had ever seen behind the curtain, been allowed to watch the wizard work.

She wondered if there had been anyone before her to see Georgia the lover; attentive and swooning slightly in the giddy flush of affection, or a source of constant warmth as their relationship steadied and deepened.  The Georgia whose eyes tracked down Penny’s legs with a lascivious smile or who carefully brushed out Penny’s hair after a long night playing their roles.

Even when they were separated, Penny was still granted access, little glimpses shared through texts and photographs, little notes and flowers.

Georgia never marked dates with bouquets, like near every other suitor Penny ever entertained.  Flowers for Georgia were random and eclectic, a way to say “I’m thinking of you” or “I miss you” or, Penny’s favourite, “Just because.”

Whenever Penny came home to a waiting arrangement, she always took a moment to inhale the scent and fall just a little further into love.


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> All the sisters and campfires.

Allie had to hold Scar’s hand.  Only if she did that was she allowed to go.  And after Jane had been talking all day about tonight, Allie would do anything to be allowed to go.

Scarlet was getting taller, and Allie had to keep reaching and tugging to keep up with Scarlet as they set off down the back porch.

Jane was carrying her telescope, Virginia the picnic basket, and Georgia the blankets.  It was past midsummer now, and the corn was getting high, but Scarlet led the way, confident even as the sun sank towards the horizon, the light going red around the deepening shadows.

Allie wasn’t afraid of the dark; her sisters were there, and they were on an adventure.

The camping spot was over by the creek near the boundary of their farm, the ring of stones blackened by years of Tracy family campfires.  Virginia got the fire going, and Allie helped by handing over twigs and sticks as Virginia coaxed the flames higher.

Allie leaned in against Scarlet on the blanket as full dark enveloped them.  “S’more time?” Georgia asked, hand creeping towards the picnic box.

Scarlet nudged Allie.  “We’re gonna need roasting sticks.”

Allie gave the straightest stick to Jane, an open bribe for later.  Jane’s happy, smile was bright in the firelight as she helped Allie thread marshmallows and hold them out over the fire.

“Is it time yet?” Allie asked, craning her neck to look up at Jane.

Jane leaned into her, a gentle, affectionate knock.  “Not yet.  Soon.”

Soon came with sticky fingers and chocolate-smeared lips.  Jane set up the tripod, fussed over her precious scope until finally she waved her sisters over.  “That dot, that’s Europa,” Jane said, her voice a warm breath on Allie’s ear as Allie pressed her eye carefully to see.

“I wanna see the Red Spot,” Georgia declared.

“I can see that,” Allie crowed, just to tease her sister.  They took turns, swapping telescope for s’mores for the warm spot by the fire until the embers burned low and clouds closed off the sky.

“Can we go to see Jupiter, like dad went to Mars?” Allie asked, sleepy and full and lolling against Scarlet’s side.

Jane squeezes her ankle from where she’s lying on the rug by Allie’s feet, Georgia already snoring with her head pillowed on Jane’s stomach.  “Maybe one day, Speedy.  We’ll go together, okay?”

“Okay,” Allie sighed, eyes drifting closed to dream of moons and stars.


	74. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> Virginia, Brains and the Eiffel Tower (I'm watching the news and they're in Paris hence the idea!)

Paris in the fall was fogs and twinkling lights and warm little pavement cafes.

Virginia walked, hand in hand with Brains, and drank in the colours and textures of the city. They were just one couple among hundreds, all adrift in the city of love.

Before them, the Eiffel Tower reached up into the night, the rows of lights along the struts bright in the gloom. 

“D-did you know?” Brains began, pushing his glasses up his nose as they both looked up the soaring structure. “In cold weather, the tower shrinks by about six inches?”

Virginia bit her lip. “I hope that’s the only thing that’s shrinking now,” she quipped, not looking over.

She still heard the embarrassed little noise Brains made as he ducked to push his face against her shoulder, hiding his blush.

Laughing, Virginia flung an arm around him and together they headed into the tower.


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> Penny, Jane, and afternoon tea

To the uninformed observer, the two women could have been sisters right up until they spoke and their conflicting accents gave them away.  They were a matched pair, both strawberry-blonde and impeccably dressed as they followed the maitre de to the best table in the hotel.

Penny relaxed back, at ease amid the art deco excess.  “So,” she began with a sunny smile as the waiters retreated with formal bows.  “While I will never say no to tea at Claridges, I must confess I suspect an ulterior motive.”

Jane’s eyes were on the tiered plate of multi-coloured macaroons.  “That sounds like something a spy would say.”

“High tea,” Penny repeated. “At Claridges.  Even I have to go on a waiting list to get in here.  How on earth did you even manage it, let alone at short notice?”

Jane sat back, a treat selected.  “I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a Jedi.”

Penny laughed; for all that Jane was only ever a call away, Penny had been missing this nerd rather dreadfully.  “Fine, keep your secrets,” she yielded, reaching for her teacup. The porcelain was paper-thin and warm in her fingers. “Though you must have had your reasons for asking me to come.”

Jane shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable at the question.  “I knew you wanted to go here.”

“Yes,” Penny almost drawled.  “But why have you taken it upon yourself to arrange it?”

Jane sat forward, rubbing her fingers of a linen square.  “Georgia’s smiling.  Like, a lot.  Real smiles, the ones you can see from orbit.”

At her name, Penny can’t help a smile of her own.  “Georgia’s always happy, darling.  It’s one of her best features.”

Jane’s eyes are darkly serious.  “Not like this.  She seems…lighter, now.  There’s been a shadow on her since dad…well, anyway.”  Jane shied back, away from the yawning abyss of that topic.  “Consider this my thank you. For making my sister happy.”

Penny blushed, her toes curling slightly.  “Believe me, Jane.  It’s mutual.”

Jane’s touches are valuable for their rarity.  The pat on Penny’s knee is fleeting but fond.  “Good, because there’s a but.”

Penny raised an eyebrow over her teacup.

“But if you hurt her, there is nowhere you can run to and nowhere you can hide.  Though as you were my best friend first, I’ll give you a head start.”

“So kind,” Penny giggled.  “Though, I have to say, compared to Virginia and Scarlet’s versions, what yours lacks in overt threat, it makes up in quiet menace.”

Jane nodded like that was a compliment.

Together, the two women sipped their tea and let their conversation drift to other things.


	76. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> Scarlet, Jane, and sexuality

Scarlet secretly loved having her sister close enough to touch.  Jane’s fingers are light on her scalp now, gently brushing Scarlet’s hair into a style that won’t have her mocked by the fashion journalists come the morning.  “Like this?”

Scarlet hummed non-committedly, just to keep Jane there a while longer.  “Little more.”

Jane chuckled like she could read Scarlet’s mind.  Maybe she could, after all they’d faced together.  “I remember you used to wear your hair up like this, in high school.”

Scarlet groaned as she closed her eyes.  “Oh, I remember.  But it was more poufy back then, I think.”

“That’s fashion. What goes around comes around,” Jane replies evenly, gently smoothing out the last wayward strand.  “There you go.”  Her fingers lingered a moment on Scarlet’s nape before she drifted away to sprawl on the end of Scarlet’s bed.  “Remember that boy you were trying to impress?  You did your hair up like this every day before school for a whole month.”

Scarlet winced.  “David.  I haven’t thought of him in years.”

“Sounds about right,” Jane muttered. Scarlet lobbed a brush at Jane, who caught it easily.  “He was a moron, no-one understood what you saw in him.”

“I was sixteen, I had no taste.” Scarlet shrugged at her reflection in the mirror.  “Not all of us could keep our crushes under wraps better than the CIA, Janey.”

“No secret.  No crushes.”

Scarlet caught her sister’s eye in the reflection.  “Not even, whatshisname, that guy who was the VP when you were the president of the astronomy club?”

“Sanjeev? No.” Jane smirked.  “Though his boyfriend was exactly your type.”

Scarlet laughed at the light jab.  “What happened to us, Jane?  We’re not hideous-to-look-at young women who are truly _ridiculously_  wealthy and who have the coolest jobs in the world?  How are we single on a Friday night?”

Jane rose and came across to perch on the padded bench next to Scarlet.  “Because,” she says quietly, resting her head on Scarlet’s shoulder in soft comfort. “While we might not be hideous, we _are_ ridiculously, obscenely wealthy, which means we always have to be on guard for gold diggers.  And while our jobs are the absolute best, they are twenty-four hour gigs that, I have it on good authority, are extremely intimidating to most people.”

Scarlet’s painted lips screwed up into a pout.  “Damn it, Ginny and Georgie have got this, haven’t they?  Dating from the ingroup?”

“They called dibs,” Jane said, straight-faced just to hear Scarlet laugh again.  “You snooze, you lose.”

“Well, we’re screwed.”

Jane poked at the cosmetics scattered across the table before them.  “Scarlet,” and her voice is quiet and tentative in way she so rarely was since she became Thunderbird Five.  “You know I don’t…I’m not…”

Scarlet brushed a kiss across Jane’s hair.  “Into boys or girls at all?”

Jane’s eyes widen in their shared reflection.  “You knew?”

“I suspected.  So many people flirt with you and you just don’t seem to notice.”  Scarlet wondered, a split-second too late, if it’s the wrong thing to say.  Jane startled, a tiny flicker of movement that Scarlet can feel all up and down where they’re pressed together, side by side.  “And that’s okay,” Scarlet added quickly, her hands fluttering along Jane’s arm.  “If you don’t want, that’s okay.  And if you want, that’s okay too. I just want you to be happy.  You know we worry about you.”

Jane’s settled under Scarlet’s attention.  “I know.  But I’m different.  I know that.”  Her laugh is a little too bitter for Scarlet’s taste. “Hard to miss.  I just don’t want you…I hate I worry you the most right when I’m at my most comfortable.”

Scarlet filed that away for closer consideration when she was alone.  Right now, she had to hug her sister close.  “I will always worry about you.  You’re my first little sister, it’s a contractual requirement.”  Jane chuckled, but she leaned into the contact.  “And if that changes, you’ll tell me right?”

Jane pulled back enough to study Scarlet’s face.  “The comfortable or the don’t want to date anyone?”

“Either? Both? Both.” 

Jane’s smile is softer but no longer quite so sad.  “I will. I promise.  Thanks, Scar.”  That Jane once more leaned in to rest her head against Scarlet’s shoulder told her that the conversation was sitting on Jane more heavily than she was otherwise letting on.  “But…” she said slowly with the wicked edge only a little sister could bring.  “What about you?  Please tell me you’ve moved on from morons like David?”

Scarlet shoved a laughing Jane.  “Shut up.”  Two could play the ‘torment your sister’ game.  “It’s just me, the very rare moments of quiet, and my trusty, trusty vibrator.”

As expected, Jane screwed up her nose.  “Ew, I do not need to know that about you, I retract the question.”  She stood, but held her hand out to help Scarlet rise.  “Go to this dinner.  Flirt with whatever catches your eye. I’ll expect all the gossip tonight when you get back.”

Scarlet smoothed down the drape of her dress. “Don’t wait up.”

“I always wait up until you get home. Always.”  Scarlet looked up into her sister’s calm smile.  “Now go on." Jane kissed the tip of Scarlet's nose. "Go have fun.” 


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drdone asked  
> I love your girl!tag, for a prompt, Allie rescuing Scarlet, please?

Alana wondered if Scarlet ever slept anymore.  But apparently, tomorrow was New Year’s Eve in commercial circles, and maybe a new year would bring better habits. **  
**

It seemed strange, to be talking about the ‘end of the year’ when it wasn’t December.  But as Alana was learning, accountants worked to their own calendar.  As for Scarlet, she seemed to have forgotten which was was up, let alone what day it was.

Scarlet’s snoring now, head pillowed on her folded arms, circles dark under her eyes and her dark hair a birdsnest, part helmet-hair and part running her hands through it too many times in frustration.  Allie tiptoed, but secretly she suspected a brass band could have wandered past and Scarlet would still be snoring.

Next to Scarlet on dad’s desk were a scrolling page of numbers, endless reports caught on loop.  Allie adjusted the screen, eyes narrowing as she caught the name of divisions that were becoming familiar the more Allie accompanied Scarlet to the city, to walk HQ and factory floor in a display of family unity.

“Huh,” she muttered to herself as a name resolved out of the long list.  “Infomatic R&D.”

Allie had overhead that name and its section head mentioned more than once as she dutifully trotted after Scarlet through meeting after meeting.  “Why are you getting your own sub-heading, Mr Hastings?”

Scarlet’s soft snores skipped a beat as Allie tugged the keyboard from out under Scarlet’s folded arms but she settled back down into an even cadence of in and out as Allie flexed her fingers and went digging.

====

It’s dark when Scarlet started awake, and it took her a long moment to reorient herself.  

Her neck was aching from napping on the desk, but at some point, someone had draped a light blanket over her shoulders.  Scarlet yawned and stretched, cursing herself.  She still felt tired, and now she was even further behind where she should be.

Every division had its own report, every report its own audit, and Scarlet had to read and sign them all.

But when Scarlet tapped a key to wake up her screen, a new document was open on top, an easy-to-read list of bullet points, every concern or point helpfully appended with a report code and a page number.

At the bottom, her angel had signed her work.  “I got EOS to check the inventory levels, and I think that Hastings guy is cooking the books. One for the forensic accountants? -A :)”  Below, in the technical font EOS preferred, were neat tables of numbers that didn’t add up.

Scarlet frowned, cracked her neck, and set to work.

===

It’s two weeks into the new financial year, and Scarlet knows she’ll finally sleep properly tonight, in a real bed, and without her comm waking her at all hours with urgent messages from the accountants and the lawyers and the prosecutor.  She can almost hear her pillow calling her.  But there’s one thing she has to do first, and it can’t wait.

Allie is frowning at her homework, one hand idly spinning a stylus, an absent-minded fidgetiness of one who’s mind is only barely engaged.  She startled upright in her chair as Scarlet dumped two glass tumblers down with a heavy hand.

Allie’s eyes go wide as Scarlet cracked the seal on the good bottle of whiskey from her personal stash, and poured out two generous measures.  “Dad did this for me,” she says as Allie leans forward, the way she always does when her sister’s let slip some little parental tic that she will never get for herself.  “First time I caught an embezzler at the company.”  Scarlet has to nod meaningfully before Allie blinked and picked up the glass.  Scarlet chinked her tumbler off Allie’s with a muted clink.  “I wouldn’t have caught it, Hastings was sneaky and smart.  Luckily you’re smarter.”  Allie almost glowed under the praise, and Scarlet saluted her with her glass.  “Good work, Speedy.”

She laughed as Allie took too big a sip and started coughing.  But, eyes watering, Allie returned the salute.  “Happy New Year, Red.”

Settling in next to her sister, Scarlet savoured the heavy flavour as Allie told her how she’d figured it out.


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Parker and Jane and a party (maybe they're watching Penny do her thing) (I just want to see them interact)

The only bolthole in this entire party was already occupied.  Anyone else, and Jane would have turned tail and fled. But they’re both old hands at this, so Jane just takes the other corner and nods.

Parker companionably kept his eyes on the crowd until Jane was settled, her shawl like ruffled feathers as she drew it more tightly around her shoulders. Only then, eyes still resolutely forward, did he pass back a discreet silver flask.

Just a nip to keep out the chill in the early spring air.  And one for company.  And one to ensure the other two didn’t get lost.  Parker’s fingers are work-rough as he takes the flask out of her hand.  “Long night, ma’am?”

“I think I’m on my third eight o’clock of my day,” she admitted, easing one foot out of her low heel and rolling the worst of the strain out of  her ankle.

“Whatever are you doing here then?” Parker asked, sounding slightly horrified at Jane’s workload in a way no-one else is anymore.

Jane’s smile was well-practiced.  “It’s my job.  Besides, this-” her mother’s ring glittered on her middle finger as she gestured at the grandiose luxury before them. “Is Penny’s birthday party.  Best friend or not, she’s slit me nose to navel if I missed it.”

Parker’s smile was fond as he turns like a heat-seeking missile towards where Penny is holding court, Georgia almost plastered to her side.  “She is having a grand old time, and you’ve made an appearance, Miss Jane.  She won’t be mad if you slipped away.”

Jane knows that Parker knows that Jane knows he’s lying.  “No, she’ll be upset, but quietly, you know how she does it.  Not upset in a way that everyone knows she’s upset.”

Parker’s chuckle was answer enough.  “ _H_ Well then,” he said, putting extra oomph into the pulminary egressive.  “There is only one option remaining, Miss Jane.”

Jane raised a curious eyebrow.

Parker held out his elbow, arm at precisely the correct angle.  He’s a solid presence next to her, smelling faintly of old books and peat whiskey in a way that warms Jane more than her stupid shawl ever did.  “We,” he told her firmly, escorting her out of their bolthole and towards the huge doors at the end of the room.  “Shall just have to go and start the after-party.”

Jane’s laugh was loud enough to heads around the room.  Jane turned, just in time to catch Georgia’s nod and Penny’s lazy wave of acknowledgement.

Standing taller, Jane let Parker escort her out.


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> madilayn asked  
> Jane, Penny and mischief :) :) :)

This was an important tactical operation.  Timing was critical; one false step and it’s all over.

Penny didn’t look around the corner, that would give away her position.  She breathed silently, eyes half-closed, straining her ears for the faint sound of footfalls moving from tile to carpet.

There.  The change in the silence she was waiting for. Penny moved, trusting Jane to fall in behind her; Jane’s all long limbs, like a foal, but she was as light as a ballerina on her feet when she chose to be.

They’d left their shoes tucked under a hall table – dress shoes weren’t comfortable at the best of times, and the hard soles rang on the tiles like bells.  Flannel feet were vital for operational success, but the tiles were cool beneath her toes, making her step high and fast.

At the big wooden table that dominated the kitchen, Penny veered right, a rustle of fabric all the sign that Jane was going left.  The pie was still hot to the touch, but Cook had left mitts right there next to the pan.

Jane returned as silent as ever, a bottle of cream and two spoons fisted in her hands.  A nod, eyes flashing to the pie in Penny’s hands, and she was moving.

The yell of discovery came just as Jane leaned against the service door that connected the kitchen to the small service yard beyond.  “Oi!  You little brat!”

“Go!” Penny yelled at Jane, all attempts at stealth discarded in the headlong rush towards freedom.

The pie was heavy, but Penny was strong, and Jane now knew the manor almost as well as Penny did.  She zigged and zagged confidently through the maze of service areas that was the spine of the manor,  tumbling through a green baize door and across the foyer.

“This way,” Penny hissed, skidding down the front stairs and around the corner, almost a complete turn.

They crouched in the bushes, watching Cook and two of her assistants tumble down the stairs, calling Penny’s name.

Only once they had given up and gone back inside did Jane speak.  “That smells so good.”  

“Come on.  This way.”

By the time they made it to the hayloft behind the stables, the pie was just cool enough to eat. Slathered in cream, two little girls giggled as they devoured the spoils of their victory.


	80. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loving your Girl TAG AU!! Just been reading all your little ficlets and they're wonderful! But I have to ask -- can you tell us what each of the girls are like when they're either crushing on/in love with someone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (old one, found on tumblr but apparently never cross-posted here...whoops? /o\ Just a reminder the tumblr masterpost keeps the most up-to-date: http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/154278865128/ladies-night

 

Scarlet didn’t believe in true love, she never trusted fairy tales.  She’d had minor crushes in school and college, fleeting moments of “what if” that arrived in a flash and left just as quickly.

A part of her wanted what her parents and grandparents had.  But that part of her was shrinking, growing silent as, as day by day and week by week, the stresses of leading both a multinational company and an elite rescue organisation mounted.

She probably should be worried about how her world was shrinking, but she just couldn’t seem to summon the energy to care.

 * * *

Jane never spoke to anyone about how her view of herself was changing.

She’d grown up surround by so many assumptions about how adulthood _worked_ , she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully untangle them all.  In the rare moments of quiet, she’d been reading about new words and new ways of being.  Nothing fitted perfectly, but it was better than not fitting at all.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want affection; she craved it.  But she needed it on _her_  terms, and even if she wasn’t a few hundred kilometers above everyone else, she knew she still wouldn’t be able to frame her request in a way that would make sense, would get her what she needed without giving up what she didn’t have.

So Jane stayed apart, and told herself this meant it didn’t hurt as much.

 * * *

Virginia had been burned before.

Schoolyard politics could be cruel, and Virginia had more bullies than besties.  If she let her gaze linger, showed any kind of interest, then the rumour mill began its painful grind.

She learned quickly not to show an interest.

Only years later, one or two of the boys she had once known, met randomly at some city event social gathering, had laughed and said something along the lines of they’d considered asking her out, or that they’d thought her cute.

Virginia tried to not to be hurt; they hadn’t meant to wound. But teenage her would really have loved to have known that then, and not now. 

 She’s struggling to remember his name, something starting with a D maybe?  She knew they’d all gone up to his family’s cabin once during a summer.  She might have been sixteen; the years tended to blur a bit.  She’d thought him so handsome, had blushed every time they met, but the Tracy’s weren’t the only girls staying at cabins around the lake, and he’d ignored her to focus his attentions on some tiny, elfin blonde who looked good in a bikini.

Virginia couldn’t remember her name at all; she just remembered she’d moped for a week and had barely enjoyed the water, too depressed to have a holiday.

But sixteen was, unfortunately, a long time ago now, and of course, she reflected as she caught sight of Brains waving to her from across the room, it all worked out in the end.

He had two glasses of champagne ready by the time she’d crossed the floor.  “Old f-f-friend?” he asked.

Virginia kissed his cheek and took a glass.  “Just someone I used to know.”

* * *

Georgia thought she’d been in love before; a rapidly revolving succession of pretty things that felt good on her arm and in her bed, in the space between gold medal and tragedy.

After the hospital, and the surgeries, and the scars, she went to bed alone.

Then Penny took her hand, and Georgia realized that love was so much more than she had thought, so much more than she had feared.  And she wanted more.

The first time she woke in her bed to the sound of Penny’s slow, deep breathing beside her, Georgia didn’t feel the need to get up and go.  Instead, she snuggled into Penny’s side and let herself drift back to sleep.

 * * *

Allie stayed in touch with her school friends, even if her homeschool work was far in advance of what they were learning.  It was good to talk to them, to be included in the gossip even though she increasingly didn’t know the players.

The Spring Fling was coming up, and their group chat was full of discussion of dresses and corsages and who was taking who, how they asked, what their after-ball plans were.

Allie read their messages, her eyes drifting over to her closet with its pretty dresses, ready for the formal events Scarlet was increasingly insisting she attend.

She always went with her sisters.  There was no Prince Charming for this princess in her castle.

Allie closed out of chat and went to tend to her Thunderbird.


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> Girl!tag with Colonel Casey and Allie?

“She’s just a child,” Colonel Casey had said, utterly aghast at what Scarlet was telling her.

“She’s space rated,” and there’s no defensiveness there, no arguing the inexcusable. Scarlet knows that Allie is just a child, just as she knows that Allie is the only person they have left to deploy.  Perhaps she’s just too exhausted to feel horrified.  “Virginia, Georgia and I are still neck deep in this tsunami sweep, Jane is walking about eight separate crews through six different emergencies in four different languages.  And we _need_  that satellite back in position and transmitting.”  Her glove leaves a dirty smear across Scarlet’s forehead as she rubs her temples.  “She can do this.”

 * 

“She’s just a child,” Colonel Casey’s voice should be hard, all military protocol and impartial investigation.  This tribunal was convened to uncover how the Hood had managed to hijack a GDF satellite.

That it was un-hijacked by a girl who should be in school, not performing counter-terrorism operations in low earth orbit is officially not part of the remit of this enquiry.

Tanusha Kyrano is unflappable.  She hasn’t fidgeted once during the entire hour of her witness testimony. Her thumbs recross themselves, once, twice, thrice.  “She’s a Thunderbird.”

It’s probably the best answer Casey is likely to get.

 * 

“She’s just a child.”  Colonel Casey has learned to keep the horror out of her voice, at least where the sisters could hear.

“Fastest human in space didn’t come with an age restriction.” Georgia is ridiculously cavalier for the reason they have come together to drink champagne and toast the girl of the hour.

That the girl of the hour has been restricted to orange juice is an irony no-one else present seems to notice.

 *

“Shh, child,” Thea Casey murmurs, rocking the body in her arms gently.

All of her own children are all grown now, but she remembers how to hold a sobbing girl, stroke her hair, drop feather-light kisses on her brow.

“I tried,” Alana is almost begging, pleading to be heard.  “I got so close, I almost…”

“Shh,” Thea repeats, tucking Allie’s head under her chin.  She’s grown so much since this madness started, but she still has a long way to go.  “I know child, I know.”

By the time her sisters land, Allie’s eyes are red but she has regained her composure.  She pulls away at the sound of Scarlet’s voice, is upright and almost saluting by the time her sister barrels into her and scoops her into a hug.

“She’s just a child,” Thea repeats to the slim form who had materialized almost silently by her side.

“We know.” Jane Tracy is almost as ethereal in person as she is in a holo.  “Believe me.   _We know_.”


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> Your Thunderbirds AU with all the girls is excellent. Was wondering if I could make a request for Georgia and social media?

When Georgia is sixteen and on top of the world, or at least the winner’s podium (same thing, in her mind), her top three concerns are swimming, her sisters, and her Instagram.  In roughly that order.

(Though when Scarlet is sighing and rolling her eyes, or Jane is more concerned with maths than people, sometimes, maybe, the last two switch.  Though they always switch back, so Georgia doesn’t feel too bad about it.)

Her Instagram is maintained like a shrine; Georgia knows every filter, every camera trick.  She can dash out a witty caption or a cryptic clue with equal aplomb.  There is nothing in her swim kit, her room, or her wardrobe that her millions of followers haven’t seen at least a glimpse of.

(The weekly scolding from her dad’s PR team became its own little Insta-story, until they realized and made her take it down. #PRobablyshouldnt is still a searchable tag though, and Georgia takes a little vindictive glee in that.)

Finally, the PR team gave up and appealed to a higher power.  Georgia’s probably more familiar than any employee with that patch of rug before her dad’s big executive desk.  This room was meant to be imposing, and she knew it.  She was there when he was giving the architect’s their instructions, after all.

(She was probably the only person in the room to know what it meant when her dad turned his head away like that.  He was hiding a smile.  Perhaps the big cheesy wink as her alleged crimes were being read out was too much, but to be fair, it was all getting a bit ridiculous.)

Her dad turned back, shuffled through the files on his desk, consulted something on his tablet.  “Where was it. Oh yes, here.  Your own report, Edith, about how we were falling short of our KPIs in term of online engagement.”  He brandished her own report at her.  Georgia tried not to smirk; schadenfreude was such an ugly word.  “That people were starting to see the Tracy Industries brand as a bit stuffy, a bit old fashioned.”  He sat back as Edith stuttered and stumbled.  “Let’s kill two birds with one stone.  Kiddo,” he continued, turning to her.  Noone in the room missed the way his tone softened and warmed.  “Put everything on a delay so legal can check for anything that shouldn’t be in the public domain, and break out that common sense I know you have chained up in your mental basement.  Otherwise, have fun.”

“You’re giving _her_  the keys to our accounts?” Edith had finally found her voice, and entirely the wrong tone, if Georgia was any judge of her father’s moods.  “I thought maybe a summer intern might find it a…”

“Do you see that?” he asked, too calm for comfort as he pointed out of the window.  “That’s our name on the side of the building.  So the job is hers.  See to it.”

(Georgia didn’t miss the wink her dad flashed her as she was shepherded out the door, his next appointment already waiting.)

An hour later, a new set of credentials on her phone, Georgia headed outside.  She ended up having to balance on the trunk of someone’s car, security watching her amusedly from a distance as she lined up her first shot.

It seemed right her first post as TI’s summer social media manager was of her name, right there on the side of the building where her dad had put it.


	83. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> madilayn asked  
> Here's the request in your inbox as asked :) prompt of what regrets the girls have about giving up their lives to become IR

Alana stalked her prey thoughtfully, considering all the angles before pouncing.

She started with Virginia; the most likely to give an honest answer.  “Do you ever regret it?  Signing up to all this?” Alana asked after a minute of excruciatingly microscopic small talk, her hand arcing to take in the hangar, the Birds, everything their father had put in motion for them to catch.

Virginia stopped greasing the part in her hands, actually _thought_  about her answer.  “Regret?  Maybe not exactly _regret.”_ Her fingers are thick with grease, and she reached for a rag to clean it off.  “Some days are harder than others,” she admitted, voice hushed in the silence of their cathedral.  “But in the end, everything I care about is here.  And even on the worst days, I know I’m making the world better.”  She smiled at Allie, soft and careful.  “Nothing else I could think of doing could match that.”

Allie nodded her head and slipped away.

 * 

Jane was tired enough to only grumble as Allie squirmed under the covers and tucked herself in under Jane’s chin.  It wasn’t that long ago that Jane’s arms could wrap easily around her.

Now she felt too big and out of place, pushed up against Jane in her ascetically narrow bed.  “Do you ever wish you told dad no?”

Jane kissed her ear, still mostly asleep.  “Who can say no to the highest throne in heaven?”

Allie stayed until Jane started snoring again before she slipped away.

* 

Georgia was at her best in the water, floating on her back in the calm bay beneath the main house.

“Do you ever regret not going for a second medal?” There’s a lot in that question; of them all, Georgia is probably most acutely aware of roads not taken.  Her choices were, quite literally, etched on her skin.

“Not really,” Georgia replies, her voice as calm as the water.  “Are you having doubts, Speedy?”

Allie shrugged, bobbing a little on her knees, letting the water take most of her weight.

“We all did,” Georgia admitted, reaching out to stroke Allie’s arm.  “I just think, after everything, it’s kinda hard to remember exactly what they were.”

It’s not the answer she was looking for, but it helps her all the same.

* 

Alana didn’t even bother to ask Scarlet.  She thought she knew what her answer would be.

Years later, she regrets not digging out the truth of that might-have-been.


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> Just caught up on your Girl!TAG AU on AO3 and I LOVED Chapter 82's response with Georgia and Social Media - would we be able to see any more of Georgia's summer internship shenanigans? xx

Georgia walked the campus that summer like Tracy Industries was already her personal fiefdom, taking photos of everything from the wing tests in Avionics to the weird squishy things in petri dishes in the Zygotic Advancement Lab.

(She really, _really_  doesn’t want to know what they do in there, but the staff were number one with a bullet on her ‘Scientists We Employ Who May Legitimately Be Proper Mad Scientists’ ranking.)

Edith dropped hints, and then an actual package containing one navy blue polo with a tasty TI swoosh logo on the breast.  Georgia raffled it off through a photo comp and continued to wear her loudest Hawaiian shirts and cut-off cargo shorts.

(Boots though, as much as she would prefer to rock her flip-flops.  “S-safety is important,” Brains had told her, looking her in the eye, one colleague to another, and Georgia had taken the gentle suggestion on board.)

The first time she’s tagged into an employee’s instagram, Georgia had kicked her legs in glee.  It was a photograph of her taking a photograph, her already loud shirt turned up to eleven with filters, and the hashtag #BestAndBrightest the only caption.

(There were only 152 posts on that tag at the end of summer, but Georgia considered it her finest meme, and liked every single one).

“Edith has stopped cursing your name,” her dad said as she rocked up to his office in response to his summons.  “Now she just sighs heavily.  I take that as improvement, child.”

“So do I,” Georgia had chirped, snapping a pic of her dad’s nameplate, fingers flying as she messed with the filters.  “What do you think?” she asked, holding it up for his approval.

He grinned at the greens and purples of her filter choice.  “Very nice, though I’m more a monochrome man myself.”  He laughed at Georgia’s emphatic little nod-and-eyeroll combo.  “And I think you’ve done plenty for one summer.  Go on,” he added as Georgia’s head snapped up.  “Go catch some of those waves I know you’ve been missing.”

Georgia frowned, feeling her brow tighten.  “Are…are you firing me?”

Her dad laughed, then stilled as he took in her expression.  “No, no, quite the contrary.”  He paused, considering.  “I’m giving a valued team member a bonus of extra holidays.  Long weekend,” he added encouragingly.  “I’m not taking your job away from you, not while you still want it,” he added with fond exasperation at her hard stare.

Georgia stared down at the open app in her hands.  “Good, because I’m only halfway through my tour of the Systems Branch.  It’s hard to make banks of data centres look good, but you know I’m gonna.”

Her dad came around the desk to squeeze her shoulder.  “I know you will.  Go on, long weekend, you’ve more than earned it.  Surely you’ve got somewhere more fun to be than here?”

Georgia flicked the filter to greyscale and nodded at the results.  “Well, there is this hydrofoil race this weekend.  I’ve a friend on the crew, said they could use some extra hands.  Boston Harbour.”

Her dad gave her one more squeeze before retreating back around his desk.  “Good.  Go crash on Scarlet’s couch, race fast boats, back to work on Monday.”  He sat down and sighed heavily at the stack on his desk.  “While your dear old dad takes the red eye to China to work, work, work.”

Georgia laughed and slid around the desk.  “Have fun, daddio,” she said, holding her camera up for a selfie even as she pressed a kiss to her dad’s temple.

He waved her away with a gruff laugh.  “Go, you horrible child, get!”

With a skip in her step, Georgia headed for the door.


	85. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Georgia and how can one sister be So Terrible at surfing?

“I’m not athletic enough for this.”

Georgia bobbed in the soft roll of the surf, totally at ease. “Gin, honey, sweetheart, favourite sister. I saw you not a week ago basically benchpress an I-beam while holding a pose a gymnast would be proud of. You are plenty athletic enough for this.”

Virginia grappled with the board, shoving it at Georgia’s stomach. “How much?”

Georgia tried her sunniest smile. “How much what?”

Virginia splashed her, riding up on her toes as another way passed over and through them. “You suddenly deciding I need to learn to surf, declaring me your favourite sister, and not shit-talking the fact I’ve fallen off the board more than I’ve stayed on it.” Gin’s hair was salt-water soaked and lying flat down her forehead. She shoved it back with one hand. “So, I’m calling bet. How much and what’s the win condition.”

Georgia glanced at her watch and back up to the house. “Ok, truth is, Brains asked me to keep you occupied and out of the house for at least another hour. He wants to surprise you.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “MAX was in the kitchen when I went to grab the wax. I think it’s gonna be good.”

The high colour on Gin’s cheeks had nothing to do with the sun. “So you thought surfing?”

Georgia shrugged, letting her knees flex so she was more floating than standing. “You usually pick up things a lot quicker. I honestly thought we’d be hitting the big break by now.” She grinned and splashed her back. “How can someone related to me be so, so terrible at surfing.”

“Too many whale jokes as a kid.” Her tone was light but Georgia breathed her sister’s moods and caught the flash of old hurts pass her by.

“Well, fuck that. Come on.” She expertly caught the board and jabbed at Gin with it. “Hop on, I’m taking over this ride.”

Gin hoisted herself onto the end of the long board with an easy hop, her legs dangling on either side as Georgia turned the board for the white peaks of the main break. “Two on a board just means we’re gonna get dunked twice as fast.”

“Trust me,” Georgia said, balancing on her knees as she found her stroke and started to paddle. “Unlike you, I am the exact opposite of terrible at this.”


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have some girl!tag nobody asked for based off a pic on the girl!tag pinterest board of doom

Allie’s eyes kept drifting between the image on the news site and the reflection in the mirror.

The article was a puff piece, covering the fundraiser from the weekend.  Looking back out from the red carpet were three Tracy women - Scarlet looking fierce, Gin elegant, Georgia stylish - and tacked on like an afterthought, Allie with her braids and her high school formal look.

She looked like she’d been allowed to stay up late on a school night, not a member of the world’s most elite rescue organisation.

She turned her gaze back to the mirror, to the well-scrubbed face, two braids in neat rows above each ear.  Peeking out from under the spaghetti strap of her pj top was the bruise from her harness after the hard maneuvers needed for yesterday’s orbital rescue.

They looked to her like disparate pieces designed never to fit together.

Work the problem - it was practically the Tracy family motto.  She sucked thoughtfully on an incisor, considering her options for a long time before she turned and began rooting through drawers.

Each braid was heavy in her hands, and she felt her lip grimace as she worked the scissors over the thick rope of hair, almost gnawing through it until one, then the other braid came away.  

She tossed the second on top of the first, laying limp and dead on her dresser, and shook her head.  The last twists of the top of her braids came apart without the weight to hold them down, making her hair almost bloom out, the newly-released twists forcing her hair to curl into soft waves as they fell forward around her cheeks.

Allie pushed it back with her fingers, reveling at how _light_  she suddenly felt.  The scissors were a little too blunt to do much more, but she snipped a few stray strands, tidying up the ragged cut as best she could.

The scissors were placed with care next to the two decapitated braids.

Allie tucked her hair behind her ears, turning her head this way and that, admiring the effect, the way the short length emphasized her cheek bones, the length of her neck.

Better.  Much better.

Scooping up her old braids as she rose, Allie tossed them into the garbage on her way out the door to start a brand new day.


	87. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> I don't mind what, but can we have some Girl!TAG please?

“What is the threshold for Old Maid-hood again?” Scarlet asked the reflection in the mirror.

Grandma Tracy’s reflection appeared at her elbow as Scarlet critically scrutinized her outfit.  “Well, given that Teddy from the bowling league asked me out last week, I’d say not for a few decades for you yet, kiddo.”

Scarlet blinked and turned away from the glass.  “You’ve got a date?”

Ruth had her back to Scarlet as she sorted through jewels arrayed like stars on the dresser.  “Not with someone without their own teeth.”

Scarlet raised her chin obediently as Grandma compared two drops and made her selection.  “That’s picky of you, Grandma, you snob,” she teased.  It was easier to talk about Grandma’s life then think about her own.  

“Nothing wrong with having standards, girl,” is shot back as the simple silver and sapphire drop is fixed around her neck.  

Scarlet fingered the gem, a brilliant IR blue.  “Is this new?”

“Old,” Grandma replied, squeezing Scarlet’s arm.  “When your mother refused to let your dad buy her a new wedding ring, he bought her that.  She always loved blue.”  The squeeze turned to a pat.  “Thought it was time it got an airing.”

Scarlet inhaled through her nose and turned away to mess around with her clutch, sorting and resorting its meagre contents.  “Lipstick, lipstick, I should…”

Grandma’s skin was paper-dry, but her grip was strong as she stilled Scarlet with a touch.   “You doing okay, kiddo?”

Scarlet’s been making this smile for years now; it’s second nature.  “I’m fine, Grandma.”

Scarlet’s been faking her smile for years, but Grandma still remembered the girl she was before.  “Bullshit.  Oh, don’t gasp,” she laughed at Scarlet's wide eyes.  “I sometimes monitor comms, remember, I know you’re capable of much worse.”  Scarlet doesn’t resist as Grandma pulled her into a hug, heedless of the fabric of her formal gown and her carefully coiffed hair.  Scarlet towered over Grandma at the best of times, but in heels, she felt like she could fold in half and wrap around Grandma completely.  “You’re worth the wait, kiddo,” Grandma murmured.  “But if you don’t want to wait, get out there.”

As if in response, Scarlet’s comm chimed once, the reminder she’d set hurrying her on.  “Where would I find the time?” she asked, stepping back with a careful sniff.  As the company have piled more and more formal engagements into her calendar, Scarlet's become a pro at preserving her mascara.  She dabbed with a tissue as she checked one last time in the mirror, but the mask was holding. “And someone who wouldn’t mind the lawyers running a background,” she added like an afterthought.

Grandma snorted.  “Things were simpler in my time.  Though they keep telling me things are better now.”

Scarlet shrugged and scooped up her purse.  “Hey, if all else fails, give Teddy my number.  I’m not as picky as  _some_  women in this family.”

Grandma’s laugh carried her out, spine straight and chin up, out to the car.


	88. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Pretty please #19? - (V to Penny) "It's like this every Thursday."

Penny knew she was one of the Tracy girls on a Thursday.

“It’s like this every Thursday,” Virginia murmured to her, low and amused, as they stood by the counter and watched the madness unfurl in the sunken lounge.

“Every Thursday?” Penny asked faintly.

Another chuckle, this time with a small shrug.  “Well, barring world-ending emergencies, of course.  We  _are_  professionals.”

“I can see that,” Penny replied, rallying despite the fact that the love of her life was currently cackling as she expertly knotted two sheets together and hoisted them like a sail.  “Very professional.”

“Hey,” and Virginia was openly laughing now.  “It takes skill to assemble a field pillow fort.”

“Mad skills,” Georgia agreed.  She was wearing a towel like a cape, and she flicked it out as she bowed at Penny.  “Milady, your boudoir is ready.”

With a smug smirk at V, Penny took Georgia’s hand and descended like a queen into the soft family-sized palace. 


	89. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> The kind of bets made between Allie and Virginia

“Bet you a week of dish duty I can beat you back to the Island.”

Gin grinned, alone in Two’s cockpit but for the voices guiding her home.  “You’re in a  _rocket_ , Allie.  Hardly a fair bet.”

“I’m in rocket just leaving  _Venus_ ,” Allie sang back in the tone of mockery that all baby sisters used on their elders.

“Still,” Gin glanced up at the night sky, the stars pristine and infinite above a wine-dark sea.  “Sucker’s bet.”

“That’s not a no,” Allie pointed out, only the faintest  _crackle-pop_  on the line hinting at the distance between them.

Gin sucked thoughtfully on a tooth for a moment.  “Make it two, and you’ve got a deal,” she said, surreptitiously opening up the throttle just a little more.

Little sisters had no time for subtlety.  Allie laughed like her engines as the roared into life to race Gin home.

 * * *

“What’s the bet I can?” There’s nearly twenty people trapped, but they’re in no danger, and it was their own damn fault for ignoring the “no, really, it is stupid dangerous to go past this point” sign.  Gin’s comfortable with taking her time.

Allie’s a tiny fierce presence by her elbow.  “What, lift that I-beam by yourself?”

Gin shrugged, still eyeing up the geometry, the space she had to work.  “Me and the exosuit,” she agreed.  A tiny exhale from next to her and down made Gin laugh and reach out to hook Allie against her side in an easy hug.  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but not even I’m strong enough to lift three times my body weight unaided while standing on a mound of rubble.”

Allie shrugged but didn’t try to pull away.  “If there was no rubble, though, you’d totally have that,” she teased back. “And also, sucker’s bet.  But tell you what, you get them out before Scarlet gets here to take over, and I’ll…I’ll take your place at that gala thing next month.”

Gin still hated the galas, but for Allie, they’re novel enough and untainted by memories to still be fun.  She’s been angling for an invite for weeks.  “I’ll take that deal on one condition,” Gin said easily, turning to head back to Two to gear up. “I get to pick your outfit.”

Allie’s smart enough to be wary, young enough to be carefree.  “Okay,” she decided after a long moment of calculation. “Deal.”

Gin nodded as she thumbed open the secure cabinet to the exosuit.  She had just the dress in mind to suit Allie’s new short hair and newer adult look.

Scarlet would just have to suck it. A deal was a deal.

 * * *

“Bet you a dollar I can.”

“We’re multi, multi-billionaires,” Gin pointed out easy, keeping her eyes on her trashy novel.  “Surely you can do better than a dollar.”

“S-s-should you be encouraging her?” Brains asked quietly.  He was an only child, so he’d put his schematics on his lap to watch worriedly at how Allie was pacing along the upper level, waiting for someone to seal the pact.

Gin glanced over at him fondly, taking in the worried frown that was starting to emerge.  Anyone else, and she’d be worried about them looking at, leering at, the way her baby sister was starting to really fill out a bikini in very grownup ways.  Brains, however, had much easier worries to manage.  “I’m not encouraging her,” Gin murmured back, finally setting down her book.  “I’m egging her on.”  Before Brains could react, Gin turned her face up to the balcony.  “Bet me an hour of your ass, on my Thunderbird, cleaning things with a  _toothbrush_ , and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Sucker’s bet!” Allie crowed, dashing back to get a running start as she hurled herself fearlessly over the edge and cannon-balled into the pool.

Gin started laughing as Brains blushed and covered his face with his hands.  In the pool, Allie squeaked as she realized that was her sleek new bikini top floating away on the waves.  “Blast,  _that’s_  what I should have bet on.”  She settled back onto the lounger and found her place in the story again.  “Also,” she added as Allie, finally back in her two-piece, hauled herself out of the pool.  “Diving off the upper level is against house rules.  Your punishment is an hour of your ass, on my Thunderbird, cleaning things with a toothbrush.”

Allie’s face dropped as Brains’ gave Gin an admiring round of applause.

 * * *

“Bet you that hat of mine you like that you can’t get me out of her.”  Allie’s voice was reedy and faint, each breath bubbling in unpleasant ways.

Gin’s hands were slippery with blood, her teeth clenched as she fought to keep them both on firm ground.  “Sucker’s bet, Al,” she managed, just to keep Allie awake and focused on her.  “Because I’m getting you out.”

“Ok,” Allie said, tone drifting like she was falling asleep. “Deal.”

“Stay with me Allie.”  Up ahead, Gin was sure she could see light from the cave opening, the promise of radio contact restored and more hands to help her carry her precious burden out to safety.  “Stay with me, and you…” she wracked her tired, over-wrought mind for something irresistible to Allie.  “And you can have that flannel of mine you keep trying to steal.”

“The red one?  That’s really soft?”  Allie’s voice was faint against Gin’s ear, but Gin knew she was trying.

“That’s the one.  Just keep talking, ok, we’re almost out.”

Cradled in her arms, Allie’s face was almost buried against Gin’s neck.  Even through her suit, Gin was sure she could feel Allie smile.  “No welching.”

That was definitely daylight, and the crackle in Gin’s ear now carried the echo of Jane’s voice.  Ahead, a light flashed through the gloom and dust kicked up by the cave in.  “It’s all yours.  Just a little while longer.”

That shirt was her favourite, the one she’d been wearing the first time she and Brains had kissed. It was soft and worn and loaded with sentimentality, and Gin would burn it in a fire if it meant she got her sister safely  _home_. 


	90. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> Allie, Virginia and secrets please?

Allie was homeschooled on a remote island with her sisters both biological and spiritual, her grandmother, and their engineer and Gin’s better half for company most of the time.  Whatever secrets she had tended to be of the “ate the last cookie, was the one to knock over grandma’s potplant, was the one to move Brain’s tools out of their assigned slot” secret.

Gin watches Allie lounging with newly-feigned casualness at the edge of the pool, and considers whether or not this counts.

Over on the other side of the pool deck, under the shade afforded by the row of umbrellas, Georgia and Penny are making amends for being separated for the better part of a fortnight.  Gin’s not a huge fan of PDA, but even she can’t begrudge Georgia this.

She could do without the squeaks and squeals she was eliciting out of her Ladyship though.

On this side of the pool, Allie sighed, her gaze dropping to kick the water idly.  Gin knew that sigh well.  Ambling over, she dropped down to sit beside Allie at the water’s edge.  “How you doing, Speedy?”

Allie, bless her heart, tried to smile.  “Just peachy, Gin.” Across the water came a squeal of  _stopityounaughtygirl_.  “Peachy,” Allie repeated with greater force.

“I was thinking,” Gin said like Georgia wasn’t slowly divesting Lady Penelope of her bikini top on the sun lounger directly opposite them.  “You and me, we should go to the mainland this weekend.  Go shopping, just hang out.”

Allie raised her eyebrows.  “You hate shopping.”

“It’s Scarlet’s birthday next month.  You know how hard she is to find presents for.”  Gin nudged Allie gently.  “Help me, Alana-wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

That at least got her a laugh.  “She’s not that hard to figure out.  Booze and lacy panties she never gets to wear.”

That startled a guffaw out of Gin.  Over on the other side of the pool, Georgia looked up.  “Hey, poolside interruptus!  I’m working here.”

Gin flipped her off easily even as she got to her feet.  “Come on,” she told Allie, reaching down to haul her to her feet.  Allie’s new bob swung in front of her face, obscuring her eyes.  “Hey, maybe we can book you in for a trim, you were a bit uneven with the scissors there.”

“Screw you,” Allie said, shoving Gin and just managing to send herself skidding a few inches back along the wet surface.

Gin hauled her back in with an easy arm over Allie’s shoulders.  “Since you’re too young for booze, how about some lacy panties for you too?”

Allie openly glared up at her suspiciously.  “What’s your game?” she asked slowly, considering all avenues.

“Just thought, maybe,” Gin said, carefully not looking at Allie.  “We could go out after.  Meet some new people.”

Allie’s eyes narrowed.  “Virginia Mae Tracy, are you trying to set me up?”

Gin blushed.  “Just…out.  People go out, right?” She very carefully didn’t bring up Allie’s secret folder where she copied out images of whatever celebrity of the week she had a school girl crush on.  She should be allowed that secret.  Heaven knew and hell only suspected the kinds of things she used to clip when she was Allie’s age, after all.

Allie pursed her lips as they drifted up the stairs towards the house.  “You are actively terrible at this,” she decided at last.  “I mean, ten points for the gesture, but overall, this?  Just awful.”

Gin sighed in relief.  “Oh, I know.  But it’s either me, or Georgia.”

Allie made a face.  “Ew no.“

“Or Jane.”

Allie laughed.  “She’d be the one saying no.”

Gin pressed her advantage.  “Or Scarlet.”

Allie actually paled.  “Oh please no.  You, yes, if it’s anyone, I pick you.”

Gin tucked Allie back under her arm as they crossed the threshold into the quiet house. “What’s your type, maybe we already know someone?”

“My type? I don’t know, postcode and a pulse.”

Gin laughed again.  “Reminder, technically we don’t have a postcode.”

Allie fixed her with a glare.  “Then I’m dating up, aren’t I?”

“Who’s dating?”  Scarlet’s voice preceded her excited expression barreling into the room.  “Not Allie, right?”

Gin and Allie exchanged the nod of ones who shared a secret.  “No-one’s dating, Scarlet.  Cool your jets.”

Scar’s shoulders dropped with her expression, and Gin realized it wasn’t only Allie who needed to get out more.


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kylorr81 asked:  
> Scarlet and a fun weekend, no thunderbirds, no other Tracys around....

Scarlet had  _plans_.

The way the two events were scheduled gave her an entire, blissful weekend alone.  She could report back to the Island, but without One, it would mean half her weekend was gobbled up with travel.

Scarlet was still seriously considering it when Jane appealed to a higher power and Grandma laid down the law.

Scarlet had made half-hearted noises of disagreement and let herself be bullied into a weekend off.  She’d packed her bag carefully, pulling out things from the backs of drawers that she never got the chance to wear.  She even risked fate bitchslapping her into next week by quietly glancing over the entertainment listings and tourist suggestions for the city.

Grandma knew her too well; normally, if it was too tight to get back to the Island, she’d go back to New York and stay in the penthouse working.  Grandma had vetoed that plan with a single raised eyebrow.  And so Scarlet found herself checking into a suite of the best hotel in Montreal with a smile and a little flutter of anticipation.  

Georgia had been full of tips to maximize the entire hotel experience.  Gin had grinned and slipped her a box of condoms.  Virginia always was an optimist.

The suite had views across the city, lights twinkling in the gathering night. Scarlet let herself just drink them in before turning to unzip her bag.

The dress was sleek and racy, nothing like the more demure, serious outfits she slipped into to whip the board into shape before returning to her uniform.  Scarlet draped it carefully over the end of the bed, before ferreting around to find the panties that matched the lacy, impractical bra that pushed her breasts up to a cleavage level too impractical for rescue work.

A bath would be nice.  Bubbles even.  There was champagne cooling, and she popped the cork with a practiced flick of her thumb as she wandered naked across the suite into the cool white bathroom.  The tub was huge, big enough to stretch out in.  She swigged champagne straight from the bottle, giggling at the bubbles tickling her nose and her toes.  She let one leg lift carefully, admiring the rainbow sheen as the bubbles stretched across her skin and popped.

The towels were thick and fluffy, and she wrapped one around her chest, another twisted up onto her hair.  Scarlet flopped onto the bed and considered checking her comm.

Grandma’s rebuke was still ringing in her ears.  She decided not to risk it.

Instead, she took another swig of the champagne before dropping her towel onto the carpet.  The lace of the panties scraped pleasantly up her thighs as she wriggled into them.

She was alone in the suite; she took a moment to twist around and admire the black lace curving around her ass, and then giggled again at her own ridiculousness.

Perhaps champagne on an empty stomach after a day of meetings wasn’t the best idea.  But it was still early, too early to head out.  Scarlet flopped backwards onto the bed and sighed.  She’d just take her time getting ready.

She woke slowly, the fruity-acid scent of spilled champagne thick in the air.  Her hair was dry, her skin slightly goosebumped by the cool dawn air spilling in through the windows.

Scarlet blinked slowly, smacking dry lips, trying to reorientate herself.

Hotel.  Holiday weekend.  Morning already.

Scarlet took a moment to mourn her missed night out, the champagne now gone flat.  Then she sighed again, rolled over to bury her face in the pillows, her lace-clad ass exposed to the cool morning air, and went back to sleep.

Screw it, she was on holiday.


	92. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drdone asked  
> Oh! Request! Girl!tag, Allie and Georgia getting into trouble at a party or something and Lady P has to help them out. Please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I love how you think Lady P wouldn’t be right in there with them!)

The guy looming over Allie was a solid cloud of alcohol vapour in a badly fitted suit.  Allie was the nice one, who saw good in everyone, but even she’s shying back now. Her shoulderblades are almost digging grooves in the wall, but still this guy was trying to close the gap between them.

To Georgia’s practiced eye, Allie, as nice and as sweet as she was is now starting to entertain the novel idea of stomping on his foot, or at least faking a sudden phonecall that she  _absolutely_  has to leave to take.

But unlike Allie, Georgia has been around a lot of drunks; she estimated the odds good that the guy would take ‘a phonecall’ as an excuse to follow Allie in the hopes of getting her even more alone.

Like  _hell_  that was happening.

Georgia put on her best party-time fun girl smile and swished over to the beat of the music pouring in from the main room.  “Hey, there you are, girl,” Georgia called out while she was still several feet away.  As expected, the guy jumped back.  Even with that much booze in him, he knew he was hitting on a teenager.

Georgia knew her smile was now as fragile as shattered glass and she didn’t really care. All that mattered was getting Allie out of here with as little fuss as possible. Usually she’d poke the bear, but with Allie all wide-eyed and pale, now was not the time to play with dynamite. 

Georgia reached out, and Allie clung to her hand like a life line. Georgia let her smile turn into a snarl, never taking her eyes off the threat as she yanked Allie in behind her.  “We’ve got to go,” she said, talking to Allie but facing the dude. 

“Aw, we were just getting to know each other,” he slurred, not even trying to hide the way he ran his eyes up and down Georgia’s body.  “Maybe we can get to know each other too…” his roaming eyes finally landed on Georgia’s face.  “Hey, hey, hey, I know who you are,” he almost sang in triumph.  “You’re that dyke swimmer chick, right?”

Georgia’s lips were still curled up at the edges, but it wasn’t a smile anymore.  “Gold star for you.  And now we’re leaving.”

He cast a hungry eye over her shoulder to Allie.  “Aw, don’t go.  Maybe you and me and her can go somewhere quiet and have a good time.”

“Excuse me,” a voice said brightly, each vowel clipped and perfect.  As the drunk turned, Georgia took the lapse of attention as a chance to hustle Allie around, a wide circle as far as the hall allowed, trying to get onside with Penny.  “Darling,” Penny added to Georgia.  “Time we were leaving, yes?”

The drunk moved slowly, concentrating on every step as he lumbered around.  His eyes narrowed and his leer grew as he took in Penny’s elegant decolletage, all pale skin topped with a diamond and emerald necklace.  “No need to rush off.” He leaned in, and Georgia saw Penny’s tiny moue of disgust as she was engulfed in the fumes.  “Three girls are better than two, we could all have ourselves a real nice time.”

“Charming, but I think we’ll pass.” Penny somehow was managing to keep a pleasantly neutral expression on her face.  Georgia managed to hustle Allie around and gave her a gentle shove towards the far doors, all three women backing up, ready to make a run for it if needed.

It was only because Georgia hesitated between Penny and Allie that she heard Penny’s intake of air as a meaty hand snapped out with more speed than she’d credit a drunk to grab at Penny’s bare shoulder. “I was talking to you, bitch.”

Penny obviously had been waiting for the mood swing, from charming to nasty.    She slipped elegantly under his grasping fingers.  “And we  _are_ leaving.  I’ll let you boys sort it out between yourselves.”

“Boys?” Drunk’s face screwed up.  “What?”

“That  _h_ would be me, sir,”  As the drunk blinked at the new voice that had materialized out of empty air, his turning chin connected solidly with Parker’s flying fist.

Penny looked down at the form collapsing at her feet with clinical interest.  “Take care of this for us, would you, Parker?”

Parker was massaging his knuckles, but at his Ladyship’s word, he looked up.  Georgia saw his eyes flicker past them to where Allie was staring, wide-eyed, almost pressed into the corner near the door.  “With pleasure, m’Lady,” he said with dark promise.

Georgia smiled her thanks, and received a regal nod in return from the old man.  Turning to leave Parker to his work, Georgia held out her arm.  “M’Lady,” she beamed.

Penny let Georgia escort her the dozen steps over to Allie before she broke off to engulf the younger woman in a hug.  “All sorted,” Penny said briskly as Allie sniffed.  She ran a gentle thumb along the edge of Allie’s lips.  “Oh, come on darling, let’s fix your makeup and go be fabulous.” 

Georgia was happy to let Penny scoop Allie up and steer her to the nearest powder room.  She glanced back once, nodding with satisfaction at the meaty  _thud,_ before she scurried after her girl and her sister, closing the doors carefully behind her.


	93. Chapter 93

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> avigatorsnorth asked  
> Towers

She was still getting used to the idea of being “grandma” but at least at this age, small children were fairly easy.

Scarlet was all dark eyes and dark hair, easily over-excited and given to racing about. But she’d always come back to check on her sister, golden head bowed over blocks or quietly colouring in the corner.

Lucy was napping, her third pregnancy taking its toll, and so it was up to Grandma to be Grandma and keep the girls entertained and, above all, quiet. 

The children’s books she had were ones she inherited when she had Jeff, their edges soft and worn. She’d realized quickly that all the heroes were boys; a fact she suspected Scarlet had also picked up on.

And so Ruth improvised. “There was a Princess who lived in a Tower,” she said, pointing to the picture. Scarlet was still too young to read well or easily, though Ruth had her suspicions that Scarlet understood more than she let on. So she pointed to the pictures and carefully let her sleeve drape accidentally over the small blocks of text. “And her name was Jane.”

At her name, Jane looked up. Scarlet held her hand out, and her little sister came over to cuddle into Scarlet’s side, both of them slight weights that pressed into Ruth’s ribs. She reached further to tuck both little girls fully under her wing and kept ad-libbing. “And Jane was locked up in a tower with her books and her blocks and her colouring.”

Jane nodded once, a firm little jerk of her tiny chin, and Ruth had to laugh as she gently tugged Jane’s silk-fine hair. “But Jane had been left all alone. And a brave knight named Scarlet…” 

“That’s me!” Scarlet exclaimed. The book, bless it, not only had a strawberry-blonde princess, but also a knight in full plate armour flying a red banner.

“Yes, that’s you, see, there,” Ruth continued. “And the good knight Scarlet rode out to the Tower. Now, other knights had tried to climb the Tower, but Princess Jane had told them to go away.”

This time Ruth had to bite her lip as Jane’s firm expression of ‘damn right.’ She kept pretending to read. “But the Knight Scarlet was very nice, and asked Princess Jane if she may come up. And Jane said..?”

Scarlet nudged her sister as she thought. Jane giggled, a soft, rare sound, and nodded. “And so the Knight Scarlet went up to visit with Princess Jane. And they played together and ate cookies dipped in milk.”

“And were best friends forever,” Scarlet added like a declaration, getting another little nod from her sister.

“Ever and ever,” Ruth agreed. “The end.”


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Baking

Jane’s [apron ](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.geekyhostess.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2012%2F04%2Fqc-baking-apron.jpg&t=NWVhMTUxYmU0N2VhODk4N2ExOGVmMDgxYTE0NTFmZWQ5YTU0MDk2OSxlamdUR1o3cA%3D%3D&b=t%3Ab-bETJf6-dBKrrIDzur2qw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fakireyta.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F166120279263%2Fbaking&m=0)was a gag-gift from Georgia three birthdays ago, creases still crisp from where it had been left folded up in its packet.  But now it was getting a workout as Jane peered critically into the measuring cup.  “It says add a pinch of salt.”

Next to her, her own apron already splotched and smeared, Georgia spilled some salt into her palm, pinched out some to drop in the measuring cup, and threw the remainder over her shoulder.  “For luck, fairycakes,” Georgia grinned.  “I think we’re going to need all the luck we can get today.”

Jane sighed and rolled her eyes fondly.  “I don’t think even luck can save us now.” But she dutifully sifted the flour into the bowl with measured care, right up until Georgia leaned over the counter to push the bottom of the measuring cup up with a careless slap.  A little puff of flour dusted Jane’s fingers, and she made a face at Georgia.  “Careful!”

“Baking isn’t about careful counting, Janey.  It’s about  _passion!”_ Georgia reached into the flour jar and threw up a handful like confetti.

To her surprise, Jane laughed.  “I think baking is mostly about knowing what the fuck you’re doing.”

Georgia blinked then threw her head back and howled with laughter.  “That’s the spirit.  And remember the cardinal rule.”

“If all else fails, cover it in frosting.”  Georgia held out her hand and Jane slapped it in an obliging high five.

An hour later, they stood, a mismatched pair peering at their deflating cake with concern.  “Do you think Gin will notice?” Georgia asked hopefully.

“Oh, she’ll notice.  Luckily for us, Gin actually believes it’s the thought that counts.”  Jane chewed on her bottom lip.  “Though maybe we could cut it in half and glue it back together with jam and cream to show we really,  _really_  tried?”

“Okay yeah.”  Neither made to move away.  “I think Kayo said she was ordering in cupcakes from that baker friend of hers in Vietnam,” Georgia added like an afterthought.

“Oh thank fuck,” Jane sighed, turning to open the fridge and pull out the bottle of cream.  “But I still think cream  _and_  frosting, just to be sure.”

Georgia saluted and got to work.


	95. Chapter 95

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked:  
> "I honestly didn't think this far ahead"

“I honestly didn’t think this far ahead.”

Penny rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she dropped daintily down off the wall to land silently beside Georgia in the shrubbery.  “Darling,” Penny said leaning in to kiss her cheek.  “This is my unsurprised face.”

Georgia whistled, low and quiet.  “I like that face.”

Penny’s teeth were bright in the gloom.  “You like all my faces.”

Georgia played up the leer.  “Yes.  Yes I do.”

Penny took Georgia’s hand and twisted their fingers together.  “Well, you won’t be allowed to see this face again for twenty to life unless we can get in there.”  She nodded at the Manor, lit up like a Christmas tree.  Georgia had never seen it so bright; when Penny was in residence alone, she stayed to her drawing room, her bedroom, a few carefully chosen and easily defensible corridors.

When Lord Hugh came back from the club in the city for the holiday season, he obviously chose to turn up the wick. Georgia had met the man for the first time today, and she was still chewing over what he expression had meant when he’d looked pointedly at where Georgia and Penny had been holding hands.

Penny squeezed Georgia’s fingers, yanking her back into the present.  Between them and the kitchen door was what seemed like miles of pristine snow, brightly lit by the house. Sneaking out for a moonlit stroll and a makeout session in the stables was obviously going to be the easy part of the evening’s festivities. 

Next to her, Penny sighed, a plume of steam hanging in the air.  “We may just have to make a run for it.”

Georgia nodded, shifting forward on wet knees to kiss Penny, hard and wet and messy.  “In case you make it back without me.”

Penny caught Georgia by the ears with her leather-gloved hands and yanked her back in for a kiss that almost stole Georgia’s tonsils.  “Leave no woman behind.”  Her hand found Georgia’s once more.  “Ready?”

“Ready,” Georgia nodded, shifting into a starting position.

Penny was watching the windows for some unseen sign.  “And…go.”

They made it across the snowy lawns and tumbled up and through the kitchen entrance without being spotted.  This late, the kitchen staff had mostly wound down, just a few distant voices in the scullery.

Penny beamed at Georgia, her smile falling as she whipped around to see what it was Georgia had spotted.

Her father was sat at the kitchen table, a china cup and saucer steaming before him, a plate of half-eaten cake beside it.  He put down his newspaper.  “Darling,” he said quietly, summoning his daughter with a nod.

She went quietly, keeping Georgia behind her.

Her father looked her up and down, before breaking into a small, fond smile.  “I see,” he said, plucking a rogue piece of straw off her coat. “That the stables are still as warm on a cold night as they were when your mother and I were courting.”

Penny blushed.  “Father…?”

He waved her off and looked around her shoulder to Georgia.  “Kettle should still be warm.  Make a new pot, will you girl?”  He gently guided Georgia into the seat next to him.  “I’d like to get to know you.”


	96. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Hey, if you’re still doing fics how about girl!tag and hospital? xx

Given what their daily lives were like, being summoned to the hospital because of a routine traffic accident seemed almost like a joke.

Even so, Scarlet’s heart was beating a little faster as the automatic doors slid apart to let out the steady thrum of the emergency room.  Pasting on a calm smile, she walked over to the reception counter.  

It felt odd to be here as a civilian.

“Can I help you, honey?” the triage receptionist asked, her eyes automatically raking over Scarlet, looking for any sign of injury or distress.

Scarlet cranked up the smile a few notches.  “Here for a pick up, not a delivery.”

A few minutes later, Scarlet stepped aside for a rushing guerney and crossed the hall into an observation ward.  Her sister was easy enough to find – when Jane wasn’t happy, she wasn’t backwards about coming forward.

“If you’re so fine and shouldn’t even be here,” Scarlet interjected into the bubbling rant as she stepped around the last thin privacy curtain.  “Why, apparently, are we still waiting for the consultant to review your MRI?” 

Jane was never thrown by people stepping into her conversations.  Scarlet couldn’t remember if that had always been a thing, or was a product of living on Thunderbird Five. “Because the neurologist is a dick.”

“Shh,” Penny soothed, reaching out to pet Jane’s hand.  Scarlet worked with Lady P on a weekly basis, but it was times like this that she remembered that, before Penny was International Rescue’s London Agent, she was Jane’s dearest friend.  “They’re just being thorough, darling, that’s all.”

Jane grumbled but subsided, and Scarlet perched herself on the edge of Jane’s bed to take in the damage.  There was a pale bandage, high on Jane’s temple, a slight smudge that might have been where someone, probably Penny, had cleaned up any drying blood.  Another bandage wrapped Jane’s wrists, and her good hand drummed an impatient tattoo on the wraps as she waited.  “So," Scarlet said into the silence. "Who’s going to tell me what happened and exactly why they thought you needed an MRI?”  Almost on instinct, Scarlet turned to reach for Jane’s chart, and only a kick by Jane’s sock-clad feet pulled her up.  “Sorry,” she apologized half-heartedly, but she sat on her hands.  “In your own time.”

Jane made a face, obstreperous and displeased as only a sister could be.  “That cyclist came out of nowhere,” she grumbled as if that was the whole story.

Scarlet appealed to saner voices.  Penny sighed, but she smiled fondly as she reached out to brush a lock of Jane’s hair back behind her ears.  Jane didn’t even tolerate Grandma doing that half the time, and again Scarlet felt the sucking void of all she didn’t know about Penny and Jane.  But now wasn’t the time.  “This one,” Penny said with kind wryness, letting her hand drop to Jane’s shoulder.  “Under-estimated how far away the cyclist was, and over-estimated the jump away.”

“He nearly hit me,” Jane pouted, closing her eyes against the bright fluro strips above them.  Penny caught Scarlet’s eye and gave a minute shake of her head.  “Saw that.”

“Yes, Jane,” Scarlet and Penny answered as one.  “Anyway,” Penny continued.  “This graceful gazelle here…” She laughed as Jane petulantly shrugged off the hand on her shoulder.  “Jumped and landed on the curb, and as she’s so  _ridiculously_ tall, it was a long way down onto the cobblestones.  She hit her head, and since it knocked her out for a few seconds, I thought it best we get it checked out.”

“You know,” Jane interrupted, eyes still closed, fingers still tapping impatiently.  “I  _am_ a trained first responder medic.”

“Yes darling,” Penny agreed, reaching over to still Jane’s flashing fingers under the palm of her own hand.  “But as you possibly had a concussion, perhaps it’s best we get a second opinion.”

Any retort was cut off as the curtains whisked open, a gaggle of med students trailing after the resident, a dark-haired woman more Penny’s height than Scarlet’s.  From there, Jane was truculent but compliant as the doctor prescribed a basic painkiller for the headache and signed the discharge.  Only once they were decanted through the sliding doors and into the fresh air did Jane speak again.  “Please tell me you didn’t bring Thunderbird One.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes as she flipped open her comm and hit call.  “Give me some credit, fairycakes…yeah, we’re done, come pick us up.”

Jane scowled.  “Please tell me you didn’t bring Thunderbird  _Two_ ,” she added.  “And don’t call me fairycakes.  Or the name of any other baked good, for that matter.”

“Does that mean,” Scarlet leered, catching Penny’s eye behind Jane.  “That you don’t want to stop for waffles on the way home?”

Even with her headache and her foul temper, Jane perked up slightly.  “Only if you two don’t make one snide comment about me getting cream  _and_  ice cream.  You can’t get them in space, not really, so I’m going to enjoy them while I’m dirtside.”

“Of course,” Penny soothed, stroking her bandaged arm.  She winked at Scarlet.  “Why would we when we could make snide comments about you tripping over a cobblestone instead?”

Jane groaned as a car slid smoothly up to the pickup.  Georgia leaned over the empty passenger seat to wink at Penny.  “Hey, it’s my favourite lady and those two other nerds.  Going my way?”

Scarlet let Penny take the front seat as she bundled Jane into the back.  “To waffles, Jeeves.”

Penny laughed as Georgia doffed an imaginary cap and pulled them out into London traffic.


	97. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth requested: Jane and Scarlet and cheating at chess

“Oh, darling, don’t you know?”  Penny smiled easily up at Scarlet like she wasn’t in the process of shaking the foundations of everything Scarlet knew.  “She cheats.  Horribly.  And constantly.  Play with the rulebook handy, that’s my advice.”

Scarlet had blinked, thanked Lady Penelope sweetly, turned and screamed “ _JANE EILEEN TRACY,_ ” as she thundered up the stairs.

Jane was on her bed, a tablet propped up on her belly.  She raised one eyebrow as Scarlet stormed into Jane’s room.  “You bellowed, oh sweet delicate flower of a sister of mine?”

Scarlet jumped and landed on her knees on the end of Jane’s narrow bed.  “You cheat.  At chess.”

“Yes?” Jane said, tapping something on her screen.  Scarlet growled and yanked the tablet away.   Jane rolled her eyes as she folded her hands on her ribs.  “And...?”

Scarlet grabbed Jane’s ankles, pulling her straight so she could flop onto the mattress up her side.  “So all that shit about us playing chess so I could learn strategy and tactics was just that, huh?  You lying liar who lies.”

Jane chuckled softly as she reached over to card her long fingers through Scarlet’s cropped hair.  “Everybody cheats.  Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

Scarlet rubbed her cheek against Jane’s worn NASA t-shirt.  “Cheating at chess and butchering The Princess Bride?  Have you no shame, woman?”

“None,” Jane agreed easily.  

Her fingers had found a gentle rhythm, and Scarlet found herself starting to ebb and drift at the cusp of sleep.  “I should get up,” she murmured, fighting the pull.

“But Penny is visiting, so getting up will just mean copping an eyeful of whatever they’re up to.”  Jane’s laugh was felt more than heard, a soft rumble where Scarlet’s cheek rested on Jane’s ribs.  “Stay here with me.  You’re warm, and it will give them time to clean up whatever mess they’re making down there.”

That made Scarlet laugh, and she flung an arm over Jane’s belly.  Jane never stopped stroking.  “Later, you’re teaching me how to  _cheat_  at chess,” Scarlet mumbled as she let her eyes drift closed.

“All my dirtiest tricks,” Jane agreed as Scarlet slid into sleep.


	98. Chapter 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nav requested: Georgia and Parker and finger guns

Parker would never admit it, even under the most refined torture, but he approved of Miss Georgia.

Her Ladyship, whilst a sharp card in every other avenue of her life, had a regrettable tendency to select suitors who, regardless of gender, shared the commonality of being, one and all, absolute tits.

Her Ladyship had, more than once, mourned the end of a relationship without knowing why the young suitor in question had fled, and why Parker had the appropriate ice cream standing by and ready.

But Miss Georgia hadn’t been put off by the scowls, had laughed every time Parker had snuck up behind her to startle her, thought Parker’s extreme driving was a hoot, and just generally laughed off every inconvenience that had successfully cleared the road of obstacles in the past.

Also, unlike those past idiots, Miss Georgia made her Ladyship laugh.  That was important.

Parker is waiting for Her Ladyship now, and he can track her movement through the crowd by the turbulence that Miss Georgia seemed to leave in her wake as easily as breathing.

The media pack parted with a blinding flash of light, and there was Her Ladyship, smiling serenely as she glided towards the open car door. Behind her, Miss Georgia was walking backwards, waving and almost capering for the cameras.  If she were to continue as Her Ladyship’s escort, Parker supposed it was up to him to give the girl a few tips on appropriate decorum.

Miss Georgia spun on the spot, grinned at Parker and threw double guns.  “Parker, hey-ey, my man.  Pew pew.”  She winked and bounded into the next seat next to Her Ladyship.

Parker shut the door and took his seat before delicately shuddering.  That sorted lesson one. A noise from behind him had Parker glancing up at the rear view mirror.  “Oh my,” he mumbled as he thumbed the control for the privacy screen.

Since Miss Georgia looked to become a fixture, he’d start her lessons tomorrow.


	99. Chapter 99

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @navigatorsnorth, champion of girl!tag, requested for #99 “Georgia and Scarlet and motivational speeches”

Scarlet’s hair was plastered to her head, and she shoved it back with a gloved hand.  Georgia wondered if she should tell Scar she’d just given herself a shark’s fin, but by the time the thought coalesced into her exhaustion-poisoned mind, Scarlet had already squared her shoulders and breathed in deep the way dad used to when he was about to deliver one of his  _rah-rah-rah_  speeches.

Georgia wondered if Scarlet knew that, on their barrel-chested father, the movement looked imposing and regal, but on Scarlet, it just drew everyone’s eyes right to her tits.

“Right, everyone.” Georgia took it as a blessing that at least Scarlet didn’t clap her hands together. “I know you’re exhausted, I know you’ve already given 110%.  But the weather will break tonight, all we have to do is hold this line a little further.”  Scarlet began marching up the rag-tag line of IR and GDF and UN and a half dozen other initials, their various uniforms almost making a pattern as they slumped in the tiny marshalling area and waited for orders and hope and respite.  “I need you to hold this line, otherwise Jakarta goes into the sea and with it millions of families and homes and lives. You’re the best people in the world, with the best training and the best equipment.  The city is counting on us. So dig deep, have each others’ backs, and let’s see it through until dawn.”

The exhausted teams were saved from responding by a GDF aide running in to touch Scarlet’s elbow.  Scarlet nodded once at all of them before she turned and marched out after the aide with her back straight and her head high.

Georgia wondered how much it was costing Scarlet to keep her shoulders back like that.  She’d been out here since Wednesday, same as the rest of them, after all. She had to be just as exhausted.

Georgia rolled easily off the crate she’d been perched on and glanced around the knot of people who were holding Scarlet’s insane, crazy, last-ditch plan.  Looked like it was up to her.  

“Okay,” Georgia announced.  “This sucks.  We’re tired.  We will never want to see mud ever again.”  That got her a chuckle.  “But my sister is up there,” Georgia said, pointing to space.  “And she’s never wrong in her weather forecasts.  And my other sister-” she pointed to Gin, who blinked awake, startled at being the sudden centre of attention.  “Has the biggest Bird we’ve got refueling now.  So  _when_  the weather breaks, we’re all gonna pile into Two…” Georgia ignored Gin’s shocked tiny  _hey_.  “And we’re gonna fly to the first patch of dry dirt on this whole island, and we’re gonna have a barbecue and a nap on the grass.  But only if you hold this stupid fucking line tonight.” She held out her muddy glove and willed it to remain steady and parallel with the floor.  “Who’s in?”

Gin was first; she always was.  Other hands piled onto Georgia’s.  “Team Barbecue!” she said with more energy than she had to spare. “Break!”

Chatting among themselves over the merits of pulled pork over lamb chops, the crews all staggered back off to their stations.  Gin turned, alerting Georgia to Scarlet’s return.  “Where is everyone?” she asked.

Georgia went up on tip-toes to smooth down Scarlet’s wet and rumpled hair.  “Ready to work and awaiting of your order, oh fearless leader.”

Scarlet gave her a curious look, but Jane chimed in with the latest on the typhoon and cut her off.

Gin grabbed Georgia by the shoulders and steered her over to Two’s open ramp. “Nicely done, oh fearless follower,” she murmured in her little sister’s ear.

Georgia shrugged and knocked the worst of the mud off her boots before stomping up Two’s ramp.  “I know what people want,” she said, adding in some jazz hands just to hear Gin laugh as she disappeared forward.

Georgia turned and looked out at the rain until the ramp closed and sealed them in, ready to start again.


	100. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 100 seemed the appropriate moment for this

Hiram Hackenbacker was a methodical, thorough man by temperament and preference.  He hated leaving things to chance, didn’t trust fate.  He trusted math, and checklists and, if Grandma Tracy forced him, his gut.

And every measure said now was the time.

Even so, there was a protocol to follow.  He had to move carefully; the island was both big and too small when there was a secret in play.  But Georgia had hugged him, and Allie bit her fist to stop herself from squealing out loud.  Jane just smiled and winked at him, and Scarlet gave her blessing.  “For all that it’s worth,” she laughed as she clapped him hard enough on the back to make him stagger.

It’s Grandma Tracy who presented him with the small ocean-blue box, something antique and precious.  “She’ll understand what this is,” Grandma murmured, her voice soft and rough and fond as she kissed Brains on his temple the way he hadn’t had since before the last big roll of fate’s dice.

 * 

There was one last variable to account for.  Tradition spoke of sunset walks on the beach, but every time Brains went to suggest one, an emergency was declared, or a launch was needed, or Allie had accidentally set the kitchen on fire.

To be fair, at least Allie apologized to him later for that last one.

An acceptable alternative, according to his research, was a romantic dinner for two; despite their schedules, they normally managed to eat more than a few meals together in a week.  But now that he was  _trying_  to align their schedules, Virginia always seemed to be leaving just as he was arriving, or sailing through to grab an apple, kissing his cheek as she flew out again to deal with whatever the current emergency was. Brains sighed and looked into the oven where her favourite dish was browning nicely.  “Smells good,” Scarlet said as she wandered in off the deck.  

Brains tossed his oven mitts onto the bench.  “Have at it.”

 * 

Jane, out of all of the sisters, could be relied upon for the most pragmatic advice.  “She’s not a huge romantic, just ask her,” she said, bobbing slightly in the holo-field that glowed warmly in the dark living room.

Brains rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses.  “For this,” he managed at last.  “She deserves all the romance I can give.”

“And that’s why we’re keeping you,” Jane told him fondly. “I could divert calls…”

Brains waved her off.  “Rescues come first,” he told her, parroting the rule that had been there from the start.  “I’ll review my notes, thank you Jane.”

Jane had smiled, watching him with an odd intensity despite the cameras and holograms and miles between them.  “You’ll know, Brains. When it’s the perfect moment.  I think you’ll know.”

She ended the call before Brains could reply.  “Perfect moment,” he said to the empty air.  “Hm.”

 * 

Brains woke suddenly, the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window.  Next to him, Gin mumbled under her breath, still more asleep than awake, and yanked the covers over her head, taking most of his half of the bedding with her.

“Do you mind?” he teased, voice sleep-rough and warm.

Another mumble, and a questing hand patting along the pillows until it found his shoulder.  A gentle tug had Brains settling against her bare back, his nose against the nape of her neck.  He breathed in deep, smiling at the smell of her sleep-warm skin.  A perfect moment.  “Virginia, I…?”

The sound of Three launching always rattled the villa; there was only so much Brains could do when the house was practically on top of a rocket’s launching pad.  He felt Gin jerk from mostly asleep to mostly awake.  “What’s going on?” she asked, sitting up to reach for her comm.  “Jane?  What’s the situation?”

Brains rolled the other way to slide his feet into his slippers, patting the pocket of his robe to ensure that little box was still there.

 * 

“That third servo is shot,” Gin announced as Brains and MAX rattled across the hangar to where Two sat, her side open to reveal her powerful engines.  “I think we might have to take Two off roster for a week and just fix it all in one go before hurricane season starts,” she added, dropping off the work gantry to land beside Brains as they looked up at her Bird. “What do you think, Brains?”

Brains turned, and felt the world stop.  Gin’s hair was a mess from rolling under machinery, her overalls rolled down to her waist to free her arms to reach into the heart of her Bird.  She had a smudge of grease high on her cheek.  He didn’t think about it. He just reached out to cup her jaw, rub his thumb along the soft skin under her bright eyes.

She blushed even as she leaned into his touch. “Brains…” she began.

“Marry me.”  

He meant to be suave; only MAX knew how long Brains had practiced saying the words.  He had a whole speech memorized, the careful phrases rehearsed until they were smooth and perfect, but right now, right in this moment, he needed her to hear those words.  “Please.”  He straightened his shoulder, determined to do this right for her. “Virginia Mae Tracy…” he dropped to his knee, right there in the shadow of Two, catching her grease-stained hand in his.  “Please….marry me?”

Gin was wide-eyed, staring at him.  Then her lips curved and she giggled in shock, eyes bright.  The hand in his started to tremble.  “Yes!”  The word tumbled out of her like she’d fired it out of a cannon.  “Yes, Brains…Hiram, yes, I want to marry you.”  She was laughing and crying all in one, MAX skidding excited circles around them as Brains jumped up and caught her around the neck to drag her into a kiss.  

“Oh, wait, blast…MAX!” Brains turned his head, unwilling to let her go as she laughed into the crook of his neck.  “Ring!”

“What ring?” Gin asked as MAX slid to a stop and whipped out the little blue box. “How long have you been planning…oh!” He heard her gasp as he snapped open the jewelers box.

“Grandma Tracy said…”

“It was her mother’s ring,” Gin cut him off.  “My great-grandmother.  I used to always admire it in her jewellery box when I was small.” She blushed, leaning in to press her cheek against his ear, her eyes glued to the ring nestled in velvet.  “I always said I wanted to get married with that ring, I can’t believe she remembered….”  Her eyes were wet with tears, and she went to wipe them with her rag.  “Oh, wait, Brains, I’m filthy.”

He kissed her cheek.  “You’re perfect.”  

She was grinning even as she gave him a look.  He leaned in to steal another kiss regardless of the look and the grease, laughing as MAX produced a clean rag which he handed to Gin with a flourish.  Only when she was satisfied did Brains take her hand and carefully slide the ring onto her finger.  Pressed together, he felt her inhale and sigh happily as she admired the sparkling band on her finger.

“We’re getting married,” she said, sounding so light and happy Brains had to press another kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Y-you did say yes,” he managed, almost giddy at finally having his answer.

Gin wiggled her fingers, watching the ring sparkle.  “Oh come on,” she said, taking his hand in hers.  Brains grinned at the feel of the metal band, already skin-warm, pressing where their hands were joined.  “I need to tell my sisters, and then we are  _celebrating_.”

Brains shrugged.  “I, uh, they, uh…they’ve been helping me try to propose,” he admitted.

“They know?” Gin asked, stopping dead.

Brains blushed and nodded.

Gin’s smile was slow and wicked.  “Well, in that case,” she said, reeling him in to press them together from hips to lips.  “Let’s skip straight to the celebrating,” she leered into his mouth. Glancing around, she towed him up the ramp into Two.

MAX made a whirring noise of shock and, keeping his camera carefully averted, went to guard the door until they were done celebrating.


	101. Chapter 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> Girl!Tag and Mom?

The Lucille Tracy Foundation was the jewel in the Tracy Industries crown, and the benefit gala was the one night all sisters could be guaranteed to be in the same place at the same time, year in and year out.

But it was also about  _mom_  and so, unlike every other event, they merge slowly, coming together from five different directions, each taking the day as a knid of meditation on their own memories of her.  

Scarlet gets ready in the New York penthouse, taking her time in a way that’s different from normal.  She lingers, moving slowly, bare toes digging into the plush carpet as she puts together an outfit that reminds her of the glamorous gowns and glittering jewels she almost remembers grabbing at with pudgy toddler hands.

She meets Georgia on the landing, takes in the carefully winged eyeliner, the coif styled high and definitively spiky.  Her jaw was already set, the line hard and unyielding as she steels herself for the run of the gauntlet past journalists spearfishing for some soundbite from the daughters of a long-dead legend. 

They acknowledge each other with a nod and continue down the stairs.

Gin and Brains were loitering by the open rear door of the town car, the driver watching them from the other side. From behind the door, Scarlet can see a pair of silvery high heels swinging idly in the air, and as she and Georgia approach, Gin steps back from whatever she was saying to Allie. 

Gin’s ring sparkles in the low light as she absently brushes back her fringe, and Scarlet knows her sister well enough to know that her makeup is covering red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Brains does too, judging by the way he moves silently to take her hand, leaning in to press his nose lightly into her shoulder.  Scarlet thinks mom would have liked Brains a lot, but that’s an observation for later, after the work is done and they can go home again.  “Ready?”  she asks instead.

“Just waiting on…Jane.” 

Scarlet turns, risks half a smile for her sister.  Just like the rest of them, she’s taken extra care tonight, but the dark red lipstick she’s chosen makes her seem translucent, more like she is in her hologram than a flesh and blood person.  Her dress is so black it seems to almost punch a girl-shaped hole in the dim garage.

“Jane?”

She looks up like she’s surprised to see them here.  “Here.  Ready,” she murmurs, sounding like she’s neither.

Allie’s heel click like gunshots as they settle back onto the tarmac.  “Jane?” Scarlet looks at the way Allie swings out of the back of the car in one easy, confident motion.  If Jane’s dress was as black as the void, Allie’s shimmered like a million stars, and as Allie engulfed her older sister in hug, Scarlet couldn’t help thinking of eternity.

Next to her, Georgia is leaning in with a motion Scarlet knows Georgia thinks is subtle. The gala was the one night of the year the younger sisters held up the elder, who had more memories to grieve over.

Allie’s dress makes a faint rustling noise as she steps back.  “I love your earrings,” she says, reaching up to stroke the jade-green drops in Jane’s ear.

Scarlet knows what those earrings are; it’s clear Allie doesn’t.

Jane’s gaze catch hers just for a moment, and Scarlet is surprised that Jane’s eyes are dry this year.  “They were mom’s,” Jane answers after too-long a pause.  Her hand settles easily on Allie’s back as she guides her towards the car and the ordeal waiting for them once more.  “Let me tell you the story dad told me about the day he gave them to her,” she adds.

Scarlet ushers her family into the car, giving the driver a firm nod before pulling the door shut.   They’re crowded onto the seats, but it feels right, to have Georgia pressing into her shoulder, to be squeezed up against Gin as Jane tells Allie the story. 

It was only a short drive to the gala, but it was time enough for them to remember who they were before they had to face their public legacy once more.


	102. Chapter 102

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Allie, a couch, a cast, and resting up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [this](http://navigatorsnorth.tumblr.com/post/166072116917/inktober-day-531-sleep-some-bets-are-well-worth)

Allie hadn’t taken her prize off in two days.

To be fair, the cast was heavy and awkward, her exhaustion emphasizing how unwieldy the lump of plaster was.  She still had heavy dark circles under her eyes, a weary pallor that flattened her cheeks and paled her lips.

But when Gin had crept into medbay and to drape her favourite shirt over Allie, Allie had smiled like victory and snuggled under the soft, sweet-smelling folds.

She had been released from medbay yesterday, but had barely made it to the sofa before dropping down to rest.  She was swimming in the shirt, the sleeves almost obscuring the cast before Scarlet had clicked her tongue and knelt to roll up the cuffs to Allie’s elbows. Grandma had straightened the drape so it was more like a blanket, and in the short bursts of wakefulness, Allie had snuggled down into the collar, grinning peacefully as passing hands helped her sip water and stroked her hair.

“You’re milking this,” Gin said, smiling at the emerging alertness in Allie’s eyes, the smugness of her grin.

“I’m hurt, Gin,” Allie pouted, eyes sparkling with mischief.  “Pander to me.”

Gin burst out laughing even as she sat down, wiggling sideways until Allie’s head was resting comfortably on her thigh.  She stroked back Allie’s hair, letting her fingers linger under the bruise high on Allie’s cheek.  “Shameless,” she scolded gently.

Allie closed her eyes, still smiling beatifically.  “You’re just mad I won this bet.”

Gin let her hand drift down, knuckling lightly along Allie’s jaw under she had her hand draped possessively around Allie.  “Don’t worry, next bet, guess what the prize is?”

Allie yawned even as she laughed, snuggling in against Virginia’s side.  “Bring it on,” she muttered, already more asleep than awake.

Gin kept up her steady, gentle petting as Allie drifted back off to sleep.


	103. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Teenage Penny and Jane and hmmm, chess?

The pink walls of Penny’s room glow in the late afternoon light spilling in through the tall windows.  They cast long shadows across the chess board set up on the small breakfast table, and across the features of Penny’s opponent.

She’d been taught chess by her father, who trained her to watch the player as well as the game, to balance logic with her knowledge of the person, with an accurate assessment of her own position in the game.

Jane had come out swinging, an uncharacteristically bold opening gambit that had gone poorly.  She rallied hard, but Penny was five moves from checkmate and they both knew it.

Penny’s eyes narrowed as she watched the bishop move to its new square with a  _click_.  “I know you know the rules of this game,” Penny said at last.  Jane was wasted on chess, she had often thought.  With that blankly neutral expression, she really should take up cards.  “I know you know I know the rules of this game.”  That didn’t even earn her a blink.  “Jane, darling,” Penny concluded, confident in her position.  “Are you trying to cheat?”

Jane finally cracked, laughing softly as she tipped over her king.  “Emphasis on the trying, apparently.”  She sat back, watching as Penny deftly reset the board.  “What are you doing? Pen?”

Jane is the only one who Penny allowed that nickname.  She’s the only friend Penny would do this with.  If she was honest, Jane was her only true friend, period.  “Well, Jane,” she said lightly as she moved her pawn into her opening gambit.   “Firstly I’m going to teach you how to cheat at chess.  And then I’m going to teach you how to cheat at poker.  How does that sound?”

Jane’s smiles are rare, and this slow, wicked curve of her lips is a secret they share.  “That sounds delightful,” Jane said and made her opening move.


	104. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> "Scarlet thinks I'm too uptight to cheat. It's adorable." - Jane

“Scarlet thinks I’m too uptight to cheat. It’s adorable.” 

Penny was openly cackling in the back of Fab 1, but Parker was humming along to his driving music, and wouldn’t tell a soul regardless.

In the tiny holo, Jane is smiling that smile that Penny knows is hers alone.  “So, darling,” Penny asked, settling back into the plush upholstery.  “How much did you take her for”

Jane tried to look innocent and failed.  “A personal cheeseburger delivery, an escort to that conference in Madrid next month, and her old Harvard hoodie.”

Penny raised an eyebrow; she knew that particular hoodie had become a prize item in the trade currency of the Island.  “Check to make sure she doesn’t hide a spider in the pocket in retaliation,” she advised, just to see Jane laugh again.

“Her fault for forgetting that some of us pay attention,” Jane said smugly as her giggles subsided.

Penny rolled her eyes.  “Counting cards takes a little more than  _paying attention_.”

Jane shrugged.  “You taught me how, so anyone can do it if they just pay attention.”

Penny frowned.  “Did you just, in Georgia’s words,  _diss me_?”

Jane winked, a tiny flicker in the holo.  “See?  You pay attention.”

Penny couldn’t help her belly laugh. “Be gone, you foul space fairy,” she teased.  “Oh, and are we still on for tacos after your conference?”

“Of course.”  Jane paused, her smile growing wicked.  “You bring Georgia, I’ll have Scarlet.  We’ll see what else we can win off them.”

“Fair warning, if Georgia is there, it may turn into strip poker.”

Jane shrugged again.  “I can count, and I lived with her. I know what she looks like pantsless.”

Penny exhaled hard, feeling her belly ache with unaccustomed laughter.  “Fine, it’s a date.”  She blew a kiss at the holo.

Jane waved and blinked out.  Penny settled back, looking out at the passing scenery as she wondered where she left her lucky and well-marked set of playing cards.


	105. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based off [this pic by navigatorsnorth](http://akireyta.tumblr.com/post/166970719388/navigatorsnorth-inktober-2631-swing)

Jane knew her sisters sometimes thought of her as a pathetic lump in full earth gravity.  “My little gazelle,” Penny would tease, petting Jane’s hair as the vertigo sent her hurtling over to worship once more at the altar of porcelain gods.  Scarlet was less kind, unused to ever really feeling as sick as the dizziness could make you.  Gin and Georgia and Allie and Brains were all varying degrees of sympathetic to her plight, but they seemed to share a steadfast belief that Jane’s clumsiness and dizziness weren’t a function of a return to full gravity after weeks or sometimes even months where it was an option, but were instead something inherently  _Jane_.

It bugged her, quietly, the way a lot of things bugged her these days.  She wasn’t weak for tripping over her own feet after a week solid of floating in her dome dealing with too many overlapping crises to remember to spin up the ring.  She wasn’t fragile for all that the first rush of vertigo tinged everything with the green hue of nausea.

It just meant she was human.  Perhaps that they kept forgetting this was what was really bugging her the most.

But the nausea faded, her balance returning with the rest of her muscle tone as she got used to gravity just as she had got used to being without it.  Every day, she moved from a slow amble to an easy trot to full speed, feeling the very human rush of the wind in her hair as she turned her nose to the horizon.

Kayo kind of got it; it was how they’d hesitantly become friends, all those years ago, when Kayo was the quiet interloper, tagging after her father into the Tracy family to be left with the even quieter daughter to stay out of trouble as deals were made.

It was Kayo who had taught Jane, all those years ago, how to sight and spring and roll with her own momentum.  It was Kayo who’d gone around the island, concreting bars and blocks in among the rocks and plants in a weak but passable imitation of an urban obstacle course to let them both practice in between visits to a real city.

Kayo’s a dark pony tail flashing further ahead up the trail, leading the way.  Jane grinned, rubbing her gravel-grazed palms on her star-spangled running tights as she lined up and leaped at the row of bars that marked the path over a natural gully that cut the trail in two.  She stuck this landing, grinning at the fist pump Kayo threw in the air without even looking back.

Kayo hadn’t hovered, didn’t tsk her tongue or make a snide jab about gazelles and falling when Jane had screwed up the very first drop in this run.  She’d just held her hand out and helped Jane back onto her feet, pausing only for Jane to nod she was okay before they’d continued on.  

Kayo’s been running this track daily.  Despite the weeks since she’d last seen it, the turns and angles were slowly coming back to Jane too as she watched Kayo speed up and slow down, muscles bunching as she made the leap, showing Jane the path over and under and through.

It was a very human thing to give chase and follow.  Putting on a fresh burst of speed despite the fatigue in underused muscles, the sting of the graze, Jane raced after Kayo down the track.


	106. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Aki can you write us something with Scarlet as the skua? Fierce and territorial and menacing

([@navigatorsnorth](https://tmblr.co/mz9WtOv-l5LC92Zk2g6E6hA) and her[ birds metaphor](http://navigatorsnorth.tumblr.com/post/165885653302/red-bird-jay-bird-black-bird-blue-bird-little) gives me LIFE)

There’s blood trickling over her lip, and Scarlet wipes it off with the back of her hand.  Her tongue already tastes metallic so it’s almost instinct to lick her lips and add the scent of fresh blood to the smoke and soot and fire that’s already clogging her senses.

Her lip pulls back, more snarl than sneer.  Behind her, she can hear Allie whimpering, trying not to make a sound despite the pain of her burned arm and shoulder. Gin has her, is consoling her, better versed at controlling her own pain. Scarlet will always trust her sisters to guide each other home.

She has a different mission.

The Mechanic’s mask is opaque, the goggles and mask almost part of his skin.  It dehumanizes him, makes clear the monster he was.  The hiss and hum of hydraulics just emphasize his otherness. 

Scarlet doesn’t remember picking up the chunk of rebar.  But it’s there, in her torn glove.  Her hands are slippery, more blood and engine fluid mixing with the water cascading over them from where Gin broke the fire suppression systems to get the fire out.

She adjusts her grip, feeling the weight and balance as she prowls forward.

The Mechanic hasn’t moved from his spot, the undulation of his tentacles the only sign he’s seen her.

“You can’t beat me,” he intones, voice rippled with distortion.

Behind her, Allie’s panting hard, Gin murmuring to her through her own tears. Scarlet tightens her grip and grins to show bloody teeth.  “Wanna bet?”

His hydraulics squeal as Scarlet leaps.


	107. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Have we seen anything with Georgia and the Colonel?

Casey’s definitely an outside observer to the lives of the Tracy girls.  She works mostly with Scarlet, though she’s had the pleasure of watching Virginia blossom. The girls all know her personal opinion of Alana’s place in all this; but that’s her personal opinion, ruthlessly compartmentalized any time she sees the young girl on scene at a tragedy. Jane is a ghost, a voice with a mystery behind it, one that constantly has to keep for another day.

Georgia was oddly easy to forget in all that, for all that she and Lady Penelope were now a fixture of the gossip rags that Thea most certainly didn’t look at except at the dentist’s office.  Watching her now, Colonel Casey is surprised at how easily she always forgets Georgia’s place in the Thunderbirds lineup.  She  _sparkles_ , almost effervescent in the dim light stained orange by the lingering smoke.

Casey’s on site to oversee the handover; it’s her job to observe, and so she watches Georgia weave through the teams of rescuers and survivors, always with a kind word, but never stopping. 

If Scarlet is a diamond, she decides as Georgia begins the slow climb up the slippery bank to the command area, then Georgia is a firework.  Startling and beautiful and useful in a surprising range of places, but still oddly transient. Flash and gone.

“Uh, ah, hi, Colonel Casey, ma’am.”  Thea knows from her private dossier, safe in her office, that Georgia did a stint in WASP, her tour cut short by Thunderbirds duties.  It’s, The way Georgia salutes the Navy way, elbow close to her side, is a sudden reminder of this.

If it was one of her sisters, Thea would use her first name, maybe chat a while about the rescue.  But Georgia’s eyes are already sliding past Casey, looking to her next stop.  “As you were, Thunderbird Four,” she says instead. Colonels generally salute to no-one in the field, but it feels natural to show her how the GDF do it.

Georgia’s answering grin glows like the rising sun, for all that her boots are already carrying her on, highfiving crew and leaving lifted morale in her wake until she finally disappeared among the crates and supplies.

Colonel Casey allowed herself one tiny, quick smile before turning back to finish overseeing the rescue.


	108. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> "Luce why did my chief mechanic just hand me a set of socket wrenches with child sized handles?" "Oh those are for Janey and Virginia. I didn't think they'd be ready so quickly!" "They what now??"

The tools look tiny, almost doll-like, in Jeff’s outstretched paw.  

Lucy blames the fact she’s still swimming in baby hormones from Alana that she starts to mist up at the sight.  “Aww, look at how cute they are,” she coos as she picks up a socket wrench, the thin handle carefully balanced to allow a small body to undo a full-sized nut.  “Janey is going to be so excited.”

Jeff’s hand closes on the rest of the set, neatly lined up in a carefully hand-stitched leather roll.  “Backtrack, oh love of my life,” he grumbled.  “Why does Jane need a full set of tools?”

Lucy bopped him lightly on the forehead.  “Because I’m sick of mine going missing?” she started.  “Because she keeps dropping them because they’re too big, and dinging them up?”  Lucy waved the wrench like a wand.  “And because it’s never too early to learn proper shop discipline.”

“Carefully supervised, I hope,” Jeff said, sounding like a man without much hope left.

Lucy just beamed at him and began peeling back his fingers to get at Gin’s matching set, carefully colour-coded to prevent sisterly squabbles.  “Where, oh love of my life, is the fun in that?”

Jeff’s sigh was almost a laugh.  “They’re  _children_ , Lucy.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.  “They’ve already disassembled and reassembled every appliance in the kitchen.  Only Scarlet’s wrath has stopped them pulling apart the TV and that game thing that she loves so much.”  She smiled fondly at her husband.  “Didn’t you notice the coffee machine has been souped up from here to eternity?”

Jeff had the grace to blush. “I thought that was you.”

Lucy was too busy admiring the handiwork on Gin’s set of precision tools to console him.  “Janey pulled it apart on Sunday night and Gin had it running at 120% spec by the time you got up on Monday.”  She looked up with a wink.  “Ginny knows that daddy is a bear without his morning cup of coffee.”

Jeff scrubbed his face with his hand.  To be fair, most mornings were an under-caffeinated blur of small children and smaller babies and half a dozen people moving at cross-purposes in a house they really had outgrown already.  But surely he’d notice that.  “And you’re okay with that?” he tried.

Lucy rolled her eyes.  “120% of spec,” she repeated.  “Our girl is a goddamn maestro of tolerances, love.”  She frowned thoughtfully at a little electronic device that had been tucked into the end of Jane’s roll.  “Oh good, voltage tester. Janey needs to learn that Mr Current is not our friend.”  She looked up at Jeff’s horrified noise.  “Oh, she was fine, at least she had the sense to put down an anti-shock mat first.  And she learned a valuable lesson about electricity.”  Lucy went up on tiptoe to press a kiss to Jeff’s nose.  “Our girls are smart. Trust them.”

“I do,” Jeff sighed, pulling her in close.  “But I reserve the right to still be worried.”

Lucy always fitted so neatly against his chest.  “Fair enough.  Also, darling?” she added after a long moment just listening to his heart beat.  “Your engineer deserves all of the raises for making these.”

Jeff scowled without heat.  “To tell you the truth, I think the entire fab team rather enjoyed the challenge.”

Lucy let him sit on that a moment longer.  “You know,” she began slowly when she judged the time ripe.  “There’s probably a market for these.”

She laughed as Jeff tickled her ribs, the two neat rolls safely tucked away in her overall’s bib pocket.

The girls were going to be  _ecstatic_. 


	109. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nav on tumblr gave me some meme questions to answer with Kayo and Jane

_13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?_

Kayo’s family had always sung as they worked, made dinner, cleaned the deck overlooking their lush garden, basically all the time.

Then the war came home and everyone stopped singing.

Now sometimes she’ll hear her father hum as he makes tea or gather their glasses from the table overlooking a city rather than a garden.  Kayo’s still not used to this place, but the sound of the old melodies both helps her and yet makes her so homesick at the same time.

Kayo’s still not used to having other girls her age around, and the Tracy sisters are just so  _loud_.  She  _likes_  them well enough; there’s almost an impossible quality about all of them that makes it hard not to like them.  But they are loud and confident and privileged in the sense that they were, to her teenage eyes, all as self-centred as spinning tops.

Jane she’d at first pegged as standoff-ish and aloof, too good for the scrappy girl with dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes.  But unlike the others, Jane is quiet, and so Kayo’s learned not to move away when Jane ghosts into a room.

As a reward, Jane’s been slipping her chocolate bars from her sister’s stashes and interesting books and other little trinkets and tokens.  So when Kayo wakes from a nightmare and isn’t sure where to go, she ends up outside of Jane’s room.

Jane sleeps almost as lightly as she does, and she doesn’t seem surprised to find Kayo knocking at her door at 3am.  Jane just guides her to the armchair in the corner of her room and pushes her into it before burying her in blankets warm from Jane’s own bed.

Kayo’s starting to feel embarrassed, the now annoyingly familiar creep of  _shame_.  Jane ignores her protests, starts humming lightly as if to say ‘I’m ignoring you.’

That Jane remembered the songs Kayo’s father sang shouldn’t be a surprise either.  But it is, so when Jane’s memory falters, Kayo picks up the song.

Jane’s not the most confident singer, always unwilling to raise her voice.  But Kayo pulls her close and hums the notes for Jane to mimick until they’re both giggling and seguing into the racier songs the soldiers used to sing.

Kayo fell asleep right there in the armchair, and woke with a song on her lips.

25)  _Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush_?

“Jane!” Kayo hissed through gritted teeth, daring even to gently kick the side of Jane’s shoe.

Jane is impassively serene as she looks out over the ball before them.  People are pressed in so tightly, anyone could overhear them.  “What?  You’re the one who said you’d ride him like a pony.  I’m just pointing out that he’s hung like one.”

Kayo’s gasp of laughter triggered a coughing fit.  “Oh,” Jane said, suddenly loud, the voice she used when she was pretending to be someone else.  “Would you mind getting my friend a glass of water?  Oh thank you.”  Jane’s fingers pinched Kayo’s bare shoulder.  “Thank me later,” she muttered before pushing Kayo right into the arms of her idle crush.


	110. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dude Brandon in girl!tag with Scarlet and Alana? - Cosmo

“Hey wait, you’re a girl?  Awesome!”

Scarlet avoided Virginia’s eyes as she turned and stalked back to One.

She couldn’t avoid Gin’s sniggering.  She tapped her comm anyway as Gin’s conversation with Brandon fell back behind her.  “Jane, about that footage…?” she asked, sotto voice.

“Brandon’s, uh, followers,” Jane began, and even with the thousands of miles between here and Five, Jane’s voice was alight with laughter.  “Have been treated to an edited highlight reel of some of Brandon’s most epic pratfalls and splashdowns.  EOS tells me she had a wide range of material to sample from.”

Scarlet wasn’t so unprofessional as to laugh at another’s misfortune.  She cleared her throat carefully, knowing that Jane was still on the line.  “That’s, uh, that’s good.  Thanks.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Jane continued drily.  “As Gin’s just logged Brandon as a passenger on Two.”

Scarlet span on the spot, shading her eyes from the glare off the snow as she scanned the bulk of Two.  The cockpit windows were too high up to look into, but Kayo’s knowing smirk as sauntered past Scarlet back to Shadow told Scarlet everything she needed to know.

Scarlet exhaled and waited for the subtle hum of Shadow’s engines pushing Kayo back into the sky before she tapped her comm again.  “Uh, Five…?”

Jane was openly laughing now.  “I have a group of hikers stranded in the Gobi Desert….”

“On it,” Scarlet replied with pure relief as she trotted across the snow and back to one.


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> More girl!tag Lucy! More girl!tag Lucy! please????

Scarlet is four the first time she sees mama in anything other than greasy overalls or soft and fluffy pajamas.  The gown is simple, cheap by later standards, her makeup inexpertly done.

Scarlet was fascinated though, getting underfoot until mama hoisted her up to sit on the bathroom counter.  She sat, quiet for once, captivated as mama scrubbed her skin, painted on layer after layer.  “It’s my warpaint, baby girl,” mama had said, seeing the question in the way little Scarlet pursed her lips, tilted her head.  “Just like my spanner and hammer are my tools, and my pen and blueprints are tools, this is a tool.”  Lucy scowled mildly at her reflection.  “One I’m not so good at anymore,” she added with a sigh.

Both mama and daddy had been telling Scarlet since she was old enough to walk that ‘no’ was a complete sentence.  Mama laughed when Scarlet reminded her of this. “Yes, baby girl, but daddy needs me there tonight.”  She leaned in, smelling of powder and perfume rather than grease and jet fuel for once.  She rubbed her nose against Scarlet’s, making her giggle.  “You know how silly daddy gets if we send him out alone.”  The blatant lie had Scarlet laughing again, kicking her feet against the cabinet doors, the racket summoning her father.  

Scarlet remembers still watching dad hug her mother from behind, the way the cuddle had turned into a dance even as they teased each other, a banter back and forth that was better than any lullaby.

Watching her mother put on her makeup became part of the ritual for Scarlet.  She sat on the counter in house after house, move after move, her feet inching closer to the floor as year after year, she watched her mother paint her lashes and colour her lips, her movements more confident and skilled each time.  “Even, darling?” her mother asked, her hair piled up in the latest fashions, her black velvet dress like the evening skies that were even now captivating Janey out on the balcony.

Scarlet studied her mother’s face, pursing her lips.  “Not quite.  Here, gimme.”  Her mother’s cheek was soft and warm, her gaze steady, as Scarlet took the kohl pencil and gently balanced out the lines.  “There.  Perfect.”

Her mother’s lipstick tonight was bright red, leaving a greasy bright spot on Scarlet’s cheek.

Scarlet’s feet were brushing the floor by the time she knew the role of ever palette and brush in her mother’s makeup case.  Her hand was steady as applied liquid liner in long, even strokes.  “I think I’m too old for winged eyeline, baby girl,” her mother said, speaking carefully to not jostle her daughter.

“It’s the latest fashion, mama,” Scarlet had scolded, adding an extra flick for flair before kissing her mama’s cheek to send her out to dad.

Her mother only wore makeup for the special events; it wasn’t going to be taken away on a family skiing holiday.  Her case was still in the bathroom by the time the shattered remains of their family made it down the mountain.  Scarlet had no idea why she took it; she wasn’t even sure her father had noticed, or even cared, that the dark case had moved from her bathroom to Scarlet’s bedroom.

The first formal event, after everything, after life tried to rebalanced on this new normal, was weighing on them all.  Scarlet wasn’t sure why she volunteered to go, except she knew she couldn’t let dad go alone.

Her mother’s case smelled so strongly of her that Scarlet had to put a cold compress on her face for ten minutes to erase the redness around her eyes.  Only then could she sit in front of the mirror and reach with shaking hands to take out her mother’s favourite lipstick.  “Warpaint.  Right,” she told the teenager in the mirror, and began to paint her lips a vivid, violent red.


	112. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ak47stylegirl asked:   
> started to read your Thunderbirds gender reverse Au and i'm loving it.i was wondering if you can do something with the girls meeting their boy counterparts.
> 
>  
> 
> (I zoooommmed again. sorrynotsorry)

“Do you ever wonder…” Georgia began, eyes closed and arm across her face as she lay sprawled in a patch of sunlight.

“Uh oh,” Virginia cut in, never lifting her gaze from her notebook where she was sketching.  Scarlet couldn’t see, from her perch at the desk behind all the paperwork, exactly what she was drawing.  “Nothing good ever starts with that phrase.”

Geogia flipped her middle finger almost lazily at Gin.  “ _As I was saying_ ,” she continued archly.  “Have you ever wondered how our lives would be different if we had dicks?”

Gin snorted.  “It’d be a race between you and Scar as to who could collect more venereal diseases.”

This time Georgia used two hands.  “Fuck you,” she said mildly.  “You know what I mean.”

“You mean, if we were brothers instead of sisters?” Scarlet interjected in her best ‘wrapping up the meeting’ voice before Gin could get any cruder.

Gin could  _always_  be cruder.

“Yeah,” Georgia agreed. “A bunch of boys.  What’d be different, d’ya think?”

Scarlet snorted despite herself.  “Instant respect?” she offered drily.

“No more ‘but you’re just girls’?” Georgia retorted, her voice going all high pitched in a mimicry of all the assholes they ever met.

“Not getting my ass pinched?” 

Scarlet put down her stylus.  “Who the fuck pinched your ass, Gin?”

Gin grinned wolfishly over the top of her notepad, showing teeth.  “Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?”

Georgia had rolled over, her own concern clear as day to a sister. A moment of telepathy passed between the two before Scarlet could ask any more questions.  Whatever she found had Georgia nodding, satisfied.  “I’m glad they don’t try to pinch my ass,” was all she said instead.

“Nothing there to grab.”

This time Georgia found the empty Capri Sun pouch she’d liberated from Allie’s stash and threw it at Gin’s head.  “No butt pinches if we were dudes, and no getting my head patted either.”

Scarlet picked her stylus back up slowly.  “Your own fault for being down at elbow level.”

“Gin, baby,” Georgia said with mock-sweetness. “Toss me back that thing so I can hurl it at Scarlet’s  _head_.” 

Scarlet just laughed.  “Why are you thinking about us as men anyway?”

Georgia rose slowly, taking her time against aching joints and rippled musculature.  “Kit Cavanaugh was bleating on the news last night that because IR are all women, it’s a sign we don’t need feminism anymore.  Got me thinking.  Then…” she stretched.  “Well, you know me.  My thoughts kinda…wandered.”

The  _click_  of her stylus being set carefully onto the smooth surface of the desk was loud in the quiet of the island. Scarlet took a long deep breath before she spoke. “She said  _what_?”

Gin had already laid her notebook on her lap.  From here, Scarlet could just make out a still life sketch of Georgia as a cat.  “Wanna go throw shit at her from Thunderbird Two?” she asked Scarlet.

“Want, yes,” she admitted. “But we really can’t.”

“Boo, grownup,” Georgia teased.  “But,” she added as she sauntered over to tap open a light on Scarlet’s little desk-sized litebright.  “We can do the next best thing.”  She winked as the call connected and the image resolved.  “Pen, baby, darling.  We’ve got a thing, and it’s technically legal but totally a dick move. You in?”


	113. Chapter 113

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kylorr81 asked  
> Conversation between Virginia and Georgia heading home on Christmas Eve... from rescue or not...

“Virginia, there  _is_  a Santa Claus.”

Gin side-eyed Georgia with a wry grin, her hands steady on Two’s yoke.  “Gee, I haven’t heard that in a whole, what…” she made a show of glancing at her watch.  “Three hundred and sixty four days.”

Georgia grinned like an imp, boots on the dash, hands folded behind her head.  Her hair was drying unevenly in the cool, dry air of the cockpit.  “Still doesn’t make it less true.”  She sighed, her gaze swinging around to the clouds below them.  “But wouldn’t it be cool, to come up through the clouds and see a reindeer?”

Gin snorted and flicked on her windscreen wipers.  “Well, we’d need more than those if we come up behind a startled reindeer.” Georgia stuck her tongue out.  “Just sayin’.”

“You have no romance in your soul, Gee-gee.”

“You are in your twenties and you still believe in Santa.  The romance levels of my soul are not what are concerning me here, squid.”

Georgia’s boots thunk onto the deck.  “What would you wish for, if he was real?  If you could have anything, what would you ask for?”

The clouds parted before them, the Island a warm glow in the dark of the ocean.  On her instruments, the beacon lit up to guide them home.  “What I want?” Gin admitted as she prepared her Bird for landing.  “Couldn’t be carried in any sack.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Gin saw Georgia nod, that little tick they all had when they were reminded of all they’d lost.  “Yeah,” she agreed.

Gin took one hand off her controls long enough to reach over and poke Georgia in the bicep.  “Come on, Rudolph,” she said, nodding at the yoke.  She wasn’t Santa, but she could still bring a gift.  Georgia’s smile brightened as she realized her yoke was now controlling Two.  “Guide us home.”


	114. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about your marvellous Girl!TAG and have Virginia talking to Allie about her race she signed up for in secret?

Allie may as well be carrying around a flashing sign that read “ask me about my secret.”  The only reason she hadn’t been rumbled for real was probably because Scarlet and Jane were run off their feet with the annual GDF compliance exercise, and Georgia still had hearts in her eyes after escorting Penny to the Met Ball.

It was Brains who found the missing piece, a colleague of a colleague asking why Brains wasn’t leading the race team when a Tracy was in the drivers seat.

The key with Allie was not to give her even a chance to start to try lying.  It was just embarrassing to watch.  “So when are you telling Scarlet you’re the driver for the TI team?”

Allie opened her mouth to deny.  Gin raised an eyebrow.  Allie deflated.  “How about the first of never, does that work?”

Gin had to laugh despite herself.  “You’re gonna have to tell her, she’s also the  _CEO_ , she’s gonna find out.”  She paused, then added.  “Emphasis on the  _you_  telling her.  We’re not having a repeat of that thing with the vase and the tiled hallway.”

It was years ago, but Allie still blushed.  “I know,” she muttered.  “But if I tell her she’ll…well, she’ll go all  _Scarlet_  on me.”

“Cluck cluck,” Gin agreed.  “But tough luck, you can’t have her finding out on the office grapevine.  That would be worse.”

“I know,” Allie mumbled, defeated.  “I just…I really wanted to do this, and you know she’s gonna pull me.”

Gin hated she was such a soft touch.  But Allie all slumped and pathetic would crack the hardest heart.  “Gimme til tonight.  Then tell her.”

Scarlet was tired already.  If Gin got Jane onside first, she might  _just_ be able to talk Scarlet over into letting Allie have this first.  Rolling up her metaphorical sleeves, Gin set to work.


	115. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scribbles97 asked  
> Have you watched Home on the range yet? If not I apologise for tiny spoiler but I would like to request girl!tag and horse back riding.

“And you can fuck right off.  You and the horse you rode in on.”

Scarlet just laughs, as comfortable in the saddle as she is astride anything designed to go ridiculously fast.  “Georgia, surely you can’t still be mad at Sunflower?”

Georgia tips back her straw hat to ensure Scarlet gets the full force of her glare.  “Yes, I can.  Also, who named that demon in a horse costume  _Sunflower_.”

“Virginia did, so hush,” Scarlet scolds mildly, rolling with the movement as her own horse jinxed lightly to one side, ready to be off towards that horizon.  “She loved that horse.”

“Just goes to show you that Gin is our resident sweetheart,” Georgia grumbles, reaching for her book.  “And even though that demon horse has long since gone to the glue factory-”

“ _Shut up!”_ Scarlet hisses, reaching forward to lightly cover her mount’s ears with gloved hands.

“-I am sure it taught its demon horse ways to every beast in that barn.”  She waves Scarlet off with an imperious hand.  “So I will be a pedestrian as nature intended, and you and our demon sister-”

This time Scarlet is laughing as she says “Shut  _up_!”

“-can go a-galloping or whatever else you weirdos do with stallions.”

Scarlet is laughing so hard she’s almost falling out of the saddle.  “Fine, okay, you win.”  The horse turns on the spot, hooves flashing high.  Scarlet always was a showy rider.  “Enjoy your book.”  A kick of her heels, and woman and horse were off, ears back and hair flying as they raced towards the gate.

Georgia waits until the dust cloud has settled and the horses have vanished from sight.  “Not out riding?”

Penny steps out of a shadow along the eaves lining the main house.  “Oh,” she almost purrs in a way that has Georgia dropping her book.  “I think I can find a much better use for a riding crop.”

Georgia’s eyes widen and go dark as Penny _thwaps_ the leather strap against her palm.  Grinning, she trots after her girlfriend back into the blissfully empty house.


	116. Chapter 116

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Hmmm girl!TAG and Scarlet and gifts which are red?

People sent International Rescue Christmas presents.

It was one of those details of her life that Scarlet still didn’t fully understand.  But every year, starting in early December, bags of cards and mail trollies full of wrapped boxes rolled in.  They had to hire workers to scan and check each package, sent a pre-printed thank you note back.

Scarlet was going to amend the wording of the next print run to include the nice version of “please stop.”

She could see, even from the stairs leading down to the building’s basement space, which ones were meant for her.  She was the leader, the most visible face, and so people sent things directly to her.

The thing was, people knew she was the leader, she went fast, and her name ws Scarlet.  That wasn’t much to go on for a secret Santa.

Entire trollies were red - wrapping paper and bows, even crimson envelopes.  “Do we need to get you guys protective eyewear?” Scarlet teased the mailroom foreman.

He shrugged as he handed Scarlet a clipboard summary of the day’s intake.  “It’s more you start seeing everything in shades of red, miss.  Uh, no offense,” he added.

Scarlet laughed as she initialed the bottom corner.  All packages scanned and assessed, nothing worrying there.  She could approve sending them on to charities around the city.

The cards were a little easier to deal with, especially now.  EOS’ ring of lights was a soothing blue on the screen in the next room.  “All good, EOS.”

‘You have many admirers,” EOS said in lieu of greeting.   She was definitely Jane’s code.

“Admirers of my work or my ass?”

“57% to 41%.  The remaining two percent do not specify.”

That jolted a laugh out of Scarlet.  “And you’re still okay handling replies?”

EOS’s ring flashed.  “I have set up an algorithm to handle replies.  They are easy to model.  Not much creativity,” she sniffed.

“They’re Christmas cards, EOS.  That’s kind of the point.  Any specials today?”

EOS had shunted a small pile into a box in the corner.  Children tended not to focus on her name, or her ass.  They tended to draw her ship, zooming into the rescue or buzzing overhead like an angel.

Scarlet settled in to write her personal notes to the senders as behind her the Christmas machinery rumbled on.


	117. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Allie and post lunch naps by the pool

“Can’t talk.  Too much bird.”

Georgia laughed, even as she shook out a towel and laid it carefully on the next sun lounger.  “You know that turkey was meant to be shared between all of us,” she teased.  “Not a serving for one.”

Georgia was too full to do more than laugh as Allie lazily flipped her a different type of bird.  Georgia groaned as she laid herself out in the shade of an umbrella.  “We live in the tropics, why do we do a full cooked Christmas lunch again?”

“Grandma.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Georgia yawned, feeling too heavy and too hot. A dip in the pool would be good, but she knew that Grandma would yell if she dove in within 30 minutes of lunch concluding.  “Hey Allie, think if we broke out the supersoakers…” she trailed off at the answering snore from the next lounger.

Allie looked young and at peace, hands folded across her food baby, one leg dangling off the edge in a way that was probably only comfortable to her.  Georgia nodded, and settled back herself, one arm tucked under her head.

A nap actually sounded pretty good right now.


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> madilayn asked  
> Can you tromp on me with teenage Scarlet and a crush on her Uncle Lee? (and him letting her down gently)

“She’s at that age,” Lucy said gently.

Lee was almost spluttering.  “She’s  _fourteen_ , Luce.  I’ve got socks that old.”

Lucy was doing her best not to giggle.  Lee’s outrage was actually kind of adorable.  Scarlet could have chosen much worst for her first older man crush.  “I’m well aware how dated your style is, Lee,” she said instead.  “Trust me, in a week she’ll be back to mooning over whatever pop singer or movie star is the in thing.”

“I’m only here a week,” Lee pointed out.

Lucy’s smile grew.  “Why do you think I can be so specific?”

Watching Lee leap like a scalded cat not to be left alone or even in range of Scarlet’s inept overtures was almost amusing until Lee barreling into her office at two in the afternoon.  “Luce, your girl…”

Lucy reached for her straight edge.  “Still mooning?”

Lee was serious.  “Was waiting in the guest room with her top off.”

Lucy’s fingers spasmed on the pen.  “Lee,” she said, voice carefully light and even. “Be a dear and take any young girls in this house who are not Scarlet out for ice cream, would you?”

She waited until she heard the car before going speak to her daughter.  She found Scarlet in her room, angrily brushing her hair. “You doing okay, Red?”

Scarlet was at that petulant stage, the kind of grating anger at the world that made Lucy wonder why on earth she had  _five_. “Fine,” she said, and Lucy didn’t need to be a mother of five to know that Scar was close to tears.  She sat on the bed, and waited.

Patience wasn’t Scarlet’s strong suit; she didn’t have to wait long.  “I thought…I just…god, I’m an idiot.”

Lucy smiled into the reflection.  “Also known as a teenager.  But, kiddo,” she added, getting up to rest her hands on Scarlet’s shoulders.  “Topless? There’s such a thing as class.”

“Class takes too long,” Scarlet muttered, hanging her head in shame.

Lucy squeezed her shoulders.  “Kiddo, you’re gonna have your fill of toplessness in your life, I just bet.  But promise me, only do it when everyone in the room is enthusiastically consenting and willing. Because otherwise, it’s gonna leave you looking worse than an idiot.”

Scarlet nodded tightly.  

“Also you’re apologizing to Uncle Lee.”

“MOM!”

Lucy patted her head.  “Don’t mom me, you’re the one who pounced on him like a little baby cougar, you might have scarred him for life.  You went for the grown up approach, you get to make the grown up apology.”

Scarlet mumbled something that might have been acquiescence.  Lucy could trust Lee to take it gracefully and let her down gently. Storm in a teacup.

Lucy suspected there was worse on the horizon before the teenage years were over.  Taking the brush, she began to stroke her daughter’s dark hair.  They’d get through it.

Scarlet would always have her mother to help her, after all.


	119. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writerdarkflamespyre asked  
> Up to you, but Scarlet and Bourbon? Just cos I feel like some Girl!Tag for the new year.

People always gave Scarlet whiskey.  She wasn’t adverse to whiskey, and was never one to look gift booze in the mouth, which meant that people saw her drinking whiskey and so got her…more whiskey.

Janie knew better, fellow Kansas girl for all that her accent was starting to drift away from the heartland.  As Scarlet settled gratefully into the dingy back booth, a bottle of rotgut and two glasses hit the table in an almost singular  _thud_.

“We’ll call you if we need you,” Jane said, imperious and haughty for all that Scarlet’s screwups had brought her back down to earth.  The barkeep looked her up and down, but backed off without another word.

“Bad booze on unsuspecting sisters is my job, stop poaching,” Scarlet said tiredly as Jane cracked the seal with a practiced twist of her wrist, poured out two only marginally sub-lethal doses.

“Shut up and take your medicine.”  Scarlet raised an eyebrow at the way Jane tossed it back like it was water, a slight wince around the eyes the only sign of how much booze she’d just tipped into an empty stomach.

Scarlet’s own belly is gnawing, twisting around on itself in a way that tells her that if she tries to eat anything now, she’d just be bringing it back up in the parking lot.  The last time she vomited on that gravel, she was 17 and on a fake ID that was pointless when you were the daughter of the town’s favourite son. But she’d been drunk already, made bold with fake courage.

She could do with some courage now.  The booze burned its way over her tongue in the way only bourbon did.  “Do you think it’s…”

“Hush,” Jane snapped, pouring out a second round.  “We’ll know tomorrow, one way or the other. Tonight we drink so we don’t do something stupid.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes, her calloused fingers ringing the wet rim of glass too cheap to carry a tune.  “Oxymoron, Janie darling.”

Jane shrugged and tossed back her shock with only slightly less vehemence than the one before.  Scarlet took the bottle under the pretense of reading the label.  “Local?” she asked, surprised.

Jane’s pretty mouth looks odd curled into a snarl.  “Gotta be seen supporting the home team.  Especially if all we’re left with is the farm.”

“Dad’s… _our_  lawyers seemed pretty confident.”

Jane peered into the bottom of her glass with a worryingly expert eye.  “We shouldn’t be down to whose lawyers yell the loudest.”

Scarlet sipped her second, taking a moment to savour the flavour.  “And yet here we are.”

Jane wiped her mouth roughly with the back of her hand.  “I should have seen it coming.” 

And there it was.  “You aren’t omnipotent.  If you are, tell me, I’m sure there’s a cream for that.”

Jane didn’t laugh.  “How can you be so fucking calm?” she hissed across the table, her hand laid flat on the scored wood surface.

Scarlet lifted her glass to her lips, breathing in the smoky aroma.  “Dad always said you have to trust your team.  They may be lawyers, but they’re our lawyers.  And if they say the best thing we can do is lie low and not give them ammunition, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Jane’s anger came in flashes, like a figure out of place in a hall of mirrors.  “You know, last week I would have said I was good at waiting.”

Scarlet refilled their glasses.  “Hey, next week you might need to be good at farming.”  It’s a poor joke; Jane already belonged heart and soul to the stars. She tried not to think about where she called home now.

“Ha. Ha.” Jane said flatly, but her fingers fidgeted with the glass instead of tossing it back.  “Hey, remember the first time we drank here?”

“I don’t remember drinking.  I remember vomiting.”  Scarlet pointed through a grimy window.  “Just over there.”

“That was the nachos.”

“I don’t remember nachos?”

“You don’t want to.  Trust me.”

Scarlet laughed, a little huffing sound.  “Jane, tell me we’re gonna be ok.”

Jane put down her glass, her fingers cold where there wrapped around Scarlet’s wrist.  “Scar.  We’re gonna be okay.”

Scarlet tossed back her shot so that she might better believe that.


	120. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> madilayn asked  
> Captain O'Bannon wants a piece of Tracy ass - specifically that of a certain Space Monitor. She is also finds the bemusement of said Space Monitor adorable. (Ladies Night or TAG - either would be adorable)
> 
> Went with this as Jane getting hit on amused me no end

“You are a handful.” 

Ridley was openly grinning now, and Jane hated she couldn’t stop her blush.  “Shut up,” Jane mumbled, eyes on a tablet she hadn’t read a word of since Ridley had decided to play like Jane was her favourite chew toy.

Ridley just beamed wider.  “No, you’re right.  Two handfuls.”  She extended her gloved hands and made a clear ‘cup and squeeze’ gesture. 

Jane’s face was hot, but she wasn’t going to take this lying down.  “At least you can see mine.  Under that suit, you could have tentacles and we’d never know.”

Ridley’s laugh echoed the circumference of Five.  “Ooooh, tentacles.  Kinky, Tracy, didn’t think you had it in you.”

Jane rolled her eyes, her head bobbing side to side.  “Well, given that wasn’t a denial, I think it’s you who’s got the tentacles.  In you.”  She frowned, staring blanking into the far wall.  “You get what I mean.”

Ridley was rolling with her laughter now, her body tumbling easily through all three axes.  “Oh fuck you,” she gasped, wiping her eyes with the tips of her gloved hands.  “You saying tentacles is just the weirdest thing ever.”

Jane felt she had the blush mostly back under control now.  “Says the woman openly ogling my ass five minutes ago.”

Ridley clicked her tongue under her sunny smile.  “I could ogle your tits instead?”

“This is workplace harassment,” Jane pointed out without much hope.

Ridley’s laugh was lower and softer this time as she propelled herself easily towards the hatch.  “This is me hitting on you, Tracy.”

Jane hurled the stylus of her tablet at Ridley. “Wrong sister for that.”

Ridley winked, half in and half out of the airlock.  “I did always like a challenge,” she mock-leered.

“EOS, cycle the airlock,” Jane threatened.  Ridley just blew her a kiss and ducked out of sight as the airlock door cycled closed.  


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Okay but did you know that most glitter is small enough to be classed as a primary microplastic, with some of the coarser kinds big enough to break down into secondary microplastics. So what I'm saying is, only the best organic seaweed glitter for my girl Georgia and her shenanigans.
> 
> Then Madilayn added that they sell this glitter in 2kg bags and.....

There was glitter on Penny’s lashes.  Every blink sparkled in the evening, catching the distant flames of the tiki torches.  “I hate you,” Penny said flatly.

Georgia was down to board shorts and a string bikini top.  Every other inch was sparkling, the glitter almost glued to her with the damp left on her skin from her sunset dip in the ocean.  “You love me,” she cooed, almost dancing around Penny to the beat of the distant DJ.

“You have a glitter cannon.  Who on earth trusted you with a glitter cannon?”  Penny’s arms were crossed, but she was trying not to smile.

Georgia draped herself over Penny’s back, let her finger walk along the low heart-shaped collar of Penny’s sweet sundress.  “Absolutely no-one.  That’s why I had to make my own out of spit and string and staples.”

This close, the glitter sparkled like diamonds in Penny’s lashes, fell like stars through her golden blonde hair.  “It was Jane, wasn’t it?”

Georgia shrugged.  “She does get distracted by things that go boom,” she admitted sunnily.  “Come on Penny,” she cooed, stealing a kiss off Penny’s cheek.  “You like sparkly things, right?  Well, look-” Georgia stepped back and shimmied in a circle.  “I’m sparkly and ready to party.”

Penny raised one eyebrow, slow and sly.  That was Georgia’s only warning before Penny pounced and bore her down into the sand to start a little beach party of their own.


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> navigatorsnorth asked  
> Gin and Jane and crappy TV

“Why do you watch this  _rubbish_?”

Jane blinked out of her doze, scrunching her nose adorably as Gin dropped down next to her.  “Rubbish?  Excuse you.”

“I’m excusable,” Gin shot back, too quickly for a Sunday night.  “Unlike this rubbish!” She gestured to the screen.

Jane blinked at the screen until it resolved into a scene of Captain Scarlet chasing down Captain Black.  “Of course a heathen like you doesn’t appreciate the classics,” Jane huffed.

“You say classic, I say old and outdated utter garbage.”  But Gin had an open back of chips, and she let Jane’s hand dive in and pull out a fistful without argument.  “Seriously, you’re the smartest girl I know.  Why is this your favourite show?”

Jane shrugged.  “It’s relaxing.”

“How can it be relaxing, you must have rewatched this ep a thousand times.”

Jane nodded at Gin, her lips pursed up in a serious little pout. “Exactly.  Relaxing.”  She squirmed a little, settling back down into her curl. “There is no need for you to see me,” she quoted along with the episode between crunches of individual potato chips. “I can hear anything you have to say.”

Gin looked from the Jane to the screen and back again.  “Nerd,” she said fondly, even as she wrapped an arm around Jane’s narrow shoulders and settled the bag of chips between them as on-screen the episode rolled on, a familiar pattern of light and sound heading to a known and satisfying conclusion.


	123. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ak47stylegirl asked  
> Girl TAG. Alana and Mother’s Day.

No one every acknowledged it was Mother’s Day.  Grandma never mentioned it, it appeared on no family calendar. If they spent the day on the Island, there was no sign of the significance of the date.

This year, they were off the Island.  A tower fire in Auckland overwhelming shoddily installed fire suppressors, a hot northerly fanning the flames. Difficult, but not overly challenging for their gear.  “We’ve really gotta talk to Brains about finishing the commercial versions of these,” Georgia said to GIn over the comms as the last of the flames turned to smoke.

“I’ll put it on his list.” Gin’s voice was as dry as the air as Allie jumped down off the back ramp almost before Two touched down.  “Also, bags not doing to debrief with the fire chief.  Last time we were here, he and I had  _words_.”

Allie remembered.  Few people wound GIn up, but when she was frustrated she got  _loud_ quick.

“Dibs on Alana.”  Allie didn’t have to look to know Georgia was touching her nose.  “Allie girl, you need experience in logistics and management of rescues.”

“Is that a fancy way of saying ‘I don’t wanna?’” Allie asked over the comms, already picking her way through the mess of appliances and media towards the knot of men in fire suits.

“Yup!” Georgia’s voice popped on the comms.  “Have at ‘em tiger.”  Allie sighed but continued on as the comms cut off.

Allie knew she was being made to wait, a subtle and silent attempt to put her in a place she’d never been and would never go.  She waited, mild as milk mentally tallying all the fire safety issues even as her eyes roaming easily along the undamaged store fronts that lined the sloping streets.

Mother’s Day Mother’s Day Mother’s Day.  The words repeated like a dream, like a beacon, like a scolding from beyond the grave.  She almost jumped when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder.  “Are you….what happened to the other girl?”

Allie managed to pull her mouth into a reassuring smile.  “Post-flight checks,” she almost didn’t lie. “Ready for the walkthrough, Chief?”

He didn’t want to hear her litany of the many points of failure in the fire system, or at least not as delivered by a girl.  That’s why they had the GDF to deliver the final report, after all. So she encountered no resistance wrapping it up as quickly as she dared.  

She walked away from his parting scowl without looking back, fiddling with her wrist gauntlet to bring up her comm’s  private call setting, rarely used – after all, who else was there to call, normally?  Normally, she’d just ask Jane, who’d connect her to the right point effortlessly, but for this, she wanted to do it on her own.  After a few false starts, she found who she was looking for.  They were a little annoyed at the last minute nature of her request, but she had access to the kind of money that made those problems go away.  What she needed would be waiting for her when she got there.

Next problem was getting there.  Two needed to go back to the Island, and anyway, some instinct suggested not to take her sisters.  Allie hesitated before calling Kayo, but Kayo had Shadow, and more importantly, if she asked, Kayo would never ever tell.

No one ever acknowledged Mother’s Day on the Island, but on the Island it was balmy and tropical, always just a tad too warm for her comfort.  

In Kansas, the evening frosts had only just let go of their grip on the ground, allowing the flowers bud up out of the rich dirt and the sun had barely begun to rise as they made their final approach.

Allie had Kayo drop her down the road from her final destination, the roar of Shadow’s engine’s fading away into the dawn.  It was still cool enough that Allie could feel her cheeks start to go pink as she walked the last quarter mile down to the old cemetery.

She hadn’t been back here in too long.

It was still early enough that the bouquet in her hands was a slash of brightness amid greys and blues.  Allie hated that she had to hunt among the gravestones to find what she was looking for, childhood memories only taking her so far.

Lucille Tracy’s gravestone was clean and bare.

Allie had no idea why they didn’t come back here more often; she’d never asked for an explanation and her sisters never offered one.  But even so, someone was coming by; the grave was too well kept.

Allie hesitated before resting her flowers at the base of the marker, feeling oddly stupid and emotional and out of place all at once.  “Uh, happy mother’s day, mama,” she said, scratching her neck along the line of her uniform.  “It’s been too long, I know.”

Dropping cross-legged down on the carefully clipped grass, Alle took a deep breath and caught her mother up on her day.


End file.
